


Wishing Wells

by PixelatedRose



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Also I'll probably put content warnings in the notes at he beginning of chapters, Dream has trauma (lots of different flavors), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, George has trauma (lots of different flavors), George is colorblind, Graphic Violence, Hunter AU, In a plot relevant way and not a weird way I swear, It's like they went to the baskin robin's of trauma, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Human!Dream, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Realistic Minecraft, Slow Burn, graphic nightmares, sketchy as fuck medical procedures (Please don't try any of this ever)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelatedRose/pseuds/PixelatedRose
Summary: George is on a quest to kill the Ender Dragon in hope to avenge some long dead people and maybe gain some answers. But of course, of COURSE, he caught the eye of Hunters. And now he has ANOTHER one chasing him down.But...Why is this Hunter so different from the others? Why hasn't he killed George yet? And why was the masked man getting slower?Dream has been stalking his target, George, for a little while now. He really likes this game of cat and mouse they play. Of course, he'll have to kill him eventually, but that's EVENTUALLY. But...Something feels different about this new target...And why can't he place that weird feeling in his chest every time the short boy gets himself into trouble?(the title has nothing to do with the content of the story, I just thought it vibed)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 328





	1. Running Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey hey, New Fandom, new fic!! I'm excited that I'm writing again, and I'm really excited for this story! It's a bit more violent than any of my other stories, but I'm actually excited to write something a bit more gruesome! that being said, proceed with caution! :)
> 
> Disclaimer!!! While George and Dream have said that they don't mind shipping, if they every express discomfort at the idea, this will be taken down immediately. Dnf is just for fun and I don't actually ship them irl, I just enjoy their dynamics.
> 
> Cw for this chapter: There are a couple really graphic nightmares in this chapter, so tread lightly.

_ His feet pounded the ground. _

_ His limbs were aching. _

_ His heavy breath was rhythmic but raspy _

_ He could hear his heart beating hard in his ears. _

George jumped over a log, not seeing the steep hill on the other side. With a small yelp, he found himself rolling gracelessly over forest rubble, undoubtedly horribly bruising his body.

As he reached the painful bottom, he rolled to his feet and was off with a sprint again, not sparing his purser the chance to catch him off guard. Sure, the fall hurt like hell and he wanted nothing more than to stop, even for a moment, but there was no possible way that could happen.

How did he end up here? With  _ another  _ Hunter on his trail? He’d been so careful this time, how was there already another chasing him through the landscape like he was a mouse?

This is the way it went:

George McBlaire had been in a constant, never ending game of cat and mouse with the Hunter’s Assembly- an association that was more of a somehow organized group of lunatics who took a liking to hunting down and murdering seemingly anyone that caught their eye in the wrong way.

George had been unfortunate enough in the past three months to have three hunters set after him- he had ended up losing the first two, one getting caught in a mob fight and the other pushed into a ravine,  _ almost  _ by mistake. And now there was a third on his trail, just as persistent and maniacal as the first two.

God he really hated all this running, but what else could he do? The Hunter would be coming down the hill soon, and there was little he could do to prevent it. He weaved around and through the thick dark oak trees, scanning for somewhere to hide, maybe if he could hide, then he could double or maybe even triple back and confuse his tracker.

As he ran, George spotted a cave, barely visible through the foliage and bushes surrounding it. He leapt in, hearing a small cackle in the distance. Pushing his back up against the wall to keep himself hidden, he clamped a hand down over his mouth to try and shush his breathing.

“Oh come on out, little blue beetle~! You can’t hide from me for long, you know!” The Hunter called out, his voice terrifyingly close. “You’re not making this fun anymore!” He said, his voice almost pouty. “It was so much  _ fun  _ when I was chasing you, like you were a little  _ bug _ !”

George closed his eyes and focused on quieting his breath and movement. If he could control his breathing, then maybe his heart would calm down too and his head would clear up. Truth be told, George hadn’t had a single break in days. He was on his third night with no sleep and everything felt awful.

He must have waited there for ten whole minutes, no sound coming from the Hunter, before George finally let a breath out.  _ He must be go- _

Very, oh so  _ very _ suddenly, there was a tall man with a mask in front of him, a small diamond dagger in his hands and a wicked smile on his face. “Boo!” He said, moving lightning quick as the blue dagger found itself pressed against George’s neck.

George swallowed a shriek pressing himself as far back into the wall as possible, trying to get away from the blade that was so very close to slicing right through his pale neck.  _ When had he snuck over here?! How the hell is he so quiet?! _

The man in front of him giggled darkly as George finally had a moment to burn the image of the man in his mind. “Oh, Little Beetle! Hiding?” He had on a large coat, closer to a cloak, that was a strange shade of yellow, his messy and ruffled hair seemed to be a sandy color. “Come now…” The man pressed the tip of the dagger under Georges chin, forcing him to look up to avoid getting stabbed. The man wore a cocky and delighted grin, which very abruptly fell to a humorless frown. “Be a little more interesting next time,  _ Beetle _ .” And before George could take in any more details about his attacker, the man hit him hard over the head and George’s vision went black.

The one thing he couldn’t forget though was his circular mask. The thing covered most of his face, leaving the very bottom part of his face revealed, just enough to see his mouth and some of his cheeks. The mask was childish, but it gave him shivers, the simple smiley face scrawled across it, the blank eyes ever watching him.

* * *

_ George was running, faster, faster still. Who was chasing him was obvious enough as the same musical voice called out to him, “Oh, Little Blue Beetle!! Where you running off to, huh?!” But of course he couldn’t stop running. His legs couldn’t at this point it seemed. Forever, on and on and on, he would never catch a break. At least not at this rate, with his killer right at his feet. _

_ Suddenly, George was forced to skid to a stop, a pack of gnashing wolves in front of him, blocking his path, bloodlust in their eyes as clear as the yellow grass below George’s feet. _

_ Trapped between two bloody deaths, George froze and waited for one of them to strike, unable to look back at the masked man chasing him. _

_ But nothing came. _

_ And George wished that maybe something had… _

_ He watched in horror as the man flew past him, massacring the animals in a dark, bloody frenzy of teeth and blade. _

_ He wanted to run, to scream, to do  _ anything _ but sit and watch, but he couldn’t move. And as the last wolves stopped moving, the masked man stood, laughing like a deranged hyena, blackish blood soaking his arms to the elbows, more of the stuff splattered across his face and body. _

_ And then the man turned back to George, his mask half broken, gaping, unfeeling, black eyes stared back at him in sadistic delight. George could move now and he tried to turn and run as far and as fast as he could, but he slipped on the grass, slicked with the horrible dark liquid. _

_ The man pounced on him, murder in his dead eyes, a smile much too wide for any human to wear. “WAKE UP, LITTLE BEETLE!!!” And George shrieked as the masked man brought his dagger down into his chest. _

* * *

George sat up gasping for breath. He looked out the cave entrance and saw flickering stars through the thick branches.

He sucked in a sharp breath, putting a hand to his head.  _ Damn Hunter… _ he thought, gently rubbing where he'd been struck. He looked around and sighed. No mobs had come for him, surprisingly enough. But he had to keep moving.

As George got up, legs sore and stiff, He began to walk. He no longer had the energy to run, even though he knew the Hunter was watching him. He could hardly think clear enough to begin with and the strike to his head wasn't helping.

He jumped, shivering violently at the sound of his pursuer calling to him in a giddy, sing-song voice. "Come on, Beetle!!" His voice called, it seemed at least a little ways off. But as George spun, trying to locate the origin point, the Masked man appeared in front of him, causing George to yelp and fall to the ground. "I thought I told you to  _ run _ ." He sneered, before disappearing again in a flurry of yellow fabric and leaves.

And so George did.

He ran.

And as he did, he began to think it all might be hopeless.

But at this point it was all George knew.

Don't get caught.

Survive.

Keep going.

Run.

_ Run. _

**_Run._ **

They ran, farther and farther, and by the time the sun was rising, George could see the trees open up, a river in the distance, and sand on the other side.  _ A dessert _ . If George was thinking clearly, maybe he would have thought this was a bad idea. But George was barely awake as it was, and he didn't have the energy to spare trying to come up with a plan.

But by the time he reached the cool but murky river, he couldn't hear the Hunter behind him. He turned back, and saw that he wasn't there either. 

Thoughts muddy, George let out a shaky smile.  _ He'd lost him. _

George waded through the water and came to the shore on the other side. Resting for just a moment, he let himself breath. And then he set out across the dry dunes.

And as he trekked, his head became muddier and muddier. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to sleep so badly.

The day passed, and George didn't rest as the stars shone. At this point, his head hurt and his eyes were heavy, his legs burned like he'd never felt before and his hands shook violently. A chill wind blew through, and George wavered on his feet, stumbling and tripping, his useless legs giving way and sending him tumbling down another hill, this one sandy and dry.

But he didn't get up like he had before.

He almost tried.

But all he could think was how tired and sorry he was.

_ I couldn't do it…! _ He thought desperately.  _ I'm so sorry...For everything…. _

No one was here to save him, freezing in a desert. And so he let a single regretful tear fall from his face.

The last thing he saw was something glowing a faint yellow, coming up from behind him as he let himself accept death.

* * *

Dream liked his target this time. He'd been tracking and watching him since Yanny had been pushed into the ravine.

Sure, George wasn't the most skilled target Dream had killed, but he was enticing in such an odd way. He really liked chasing him, hearing him scream when he got a little too close. Though he had never once said a word to the Hunter like the others had.

Dream had been wanting this Hunt to last at least a month or two, but maybe he'd gone a little too hard on the small man with a blue scarf, seeing him collapse in the desert sands.

He approached the dark haired boy, his tail flicking under his green coat, glowing faintly in the dark night. He waited a few moments for some sort of response, but when he got none he kicked the man's boot, trying to wake him up.  _ C'mon, Beetle. I'm not done having fun yet. _ He nudged the man over to his back with his boot, not caring to be gentle. Yet again, Dream was met with no response. "...What a bitch…" He sniffed, disappointed that his entertainment was so easily beaten.

Dream flicked his glowing tail out from under the coat, trying to get a better look at the man on the ground. Enveloped in a faint green, Dream took in George's figure for the first time up close.

The shorter man was pale and had dirt smudges and cuts covering his body. He had a large, purple bruise that would soon deepen in color on his cheek and a dirty bandage wrapped around his hand. His blue scarf hung around his neck and a stone axe remained strapped to his back, unused in days. He had dark swooping hair and was thin from malnourishment- probably a side effect of being hunted down.

As Dream was about to turn and leave the man to die in the desert, he hesitated, looking closer at the boy's face. His eyes were just a bit wet, a single tear track ran down his face.

Dream stooped lower, crouching over the body. The more he looked at the boy the more he felt... _ something _ . He wasn't sure what it was, but he didn't like it. Unconsciously, Dream reached out a hand to the boy's face, the swirling marking on his skin faintly shining, illuminating part of his face. What was that expression on this man's face? Why was Dream having such a hard time placing it? It wasn't an expression he'd seen on...well anyone really. At least not anyone he could recall…

His hand brushed the tears out of George's eyes. He stood up then, and kicked some sand over the body.

"Not my problem anymore!" Dream said, trying to convince himself he was happy. He began walking back in the direction of the capital, trying not to think about how he'd only just left.

He passed a sandy coated rabbit and he looked at it, his markings beginning to dull.

_ You could save him, you know. _ He thought absently.  _ Then you wouldn't have to go back so soon. _ Dream crouched down and held out his hand to the furry creature, letting his mind wander, indulging himself in the thought.  _ You could stay out here and toy with him. It'd be fun!  _ The rabbit hopped over and sniffed his hand curiously.  _ Maybe you could find a more fun way of killing him… _ The rabbit relaxed back and Dream began to softly scratch it behind its ears. His mind wandered further. He thought of how George had stared him down in the cave, fear alive in his...Brown? Did he have Brown eyes? Or were they blue?

Dream absentmindedly stroked the rabbit, beginning to sit in the sand.

The shorter boy had striking fear in his eyes, when he had been in the cave, but his jaw was set and confident. He hadn't so much as screamed when Dream had spooked him, and it made him wonder…

Dream hardly noticed when the rabbit tentatively crawled onto his lap, still stroking its soft fur.

Why was he so interested in this target? It wasn't like he was  _ that _ different from his others, right? 

Dream got up, gently placing the rabbit back down as he walked back to the body in the sand.

When he reached him, he picked him up, slinging the small boy over his shoulder. He spotted a small cave hidden in the dunes and climbed in. Protected from the elements, Dream built a small fire and pulled out three bottles of water from his pack along with some uncooked pork.

He looked through his mask to where he'd laid George, the boy's face twisting in his sleep, and scoffed. "Stupid kid..."

And with that, he began to rehydrate the stupid kid on the cave floor.

* * *

_ George was running again. He was always running. He was surrounded by horribly painful flames, and his throat felt like he'd swallowed mouthfuls of sand and sharp pebbles. _

_ He wasn't being chased by the masked man anymore, but instead by something else. He didn't dare turn around and see what it was, but he knew it was horrible. _

_ Suddenly his legs stopped moving and George found himself sinking into the ground around him, the creature, which was ever changing in size and shape, completely and totally enveloped in shadows, sneered and growled at him, cackling and snapping its jaws. _

_ He tried to scream out for someone- anyone- to help him, reaching out and grabbing at nothing, desperate to escape. _

_ He couldn't die here! There were still things he needed to do, promises he had to keep, people he needed to see- He couldn't die here!!! _

_ The creature's voice multiplied and overlapped, screeching and hollering in twisted delight, watching George sink down, down, down, his fate inescapable. _

_ George was going to die. _

_ He would die. _

_ Tears pricked his eyes and fell down his face, his throat on fire, the once burning air around him now icy and horribly biting. His outstretched hand hoping something would come and save him. He tried to call out, but he could hardly breath and the ground began to sink over his head, closing his eyes. _

_ "Pl...ease...Some….one…..” George managed to scrape out, his voice forced and worn through, scratchy and burning. He opened his eyes, fresh tears rolling down his face. "Help me…!!" He pleaded. _

_ And as his lungs began to fill up and morph with the horrible ground around him, he saw someone smile above him, kind and caring. _

__ Help me! Pull me out, please!!  _ George thought desperately.  _ I don't want to die…!!

_ The person bent down and George thought that maybe he was saved, finally he would be okay! He'd be free at last and he would be able to breath again! _

_ But the kind smile turned wicked and George watched in horror as the person contorted into the creature that had once chased him. It laughed evilly and pushed George's head the rest of the way under the earth. _

_ " _ **_You will never be free, insect!!!_ ** _ " A voice ricocheted in his mind as George struggled to breath, his lungs intaking a liquid thicker than tar and fiery, scorching, burning his body, lungs, eyes. " _ **_Your puny fate was sealed the moment you existed!!!_ ** _ " The voice made his head pound and he tried over and over to scream, to make any noise, but nothing worked. " _ **_RUN AND HIDE, BEETLE!!! YOU'LL NEVER ESCAPE YOUR FATE!!!_ ** _ " _

_ And in George's last moments of consciousness, he thought he heard someone humming a tune… _

* * *

George sat bolt upright, gasping for breath like he'd done before in the cave. He felt immediately sick and turned to retch up acidic bile and sand, it burned his throat like it had in the dream, the action sparking tears to his eyes.

What the hell had happened to him? Where even was he?

"Hey, idiot, lay the fuck back down or you'll pass out again." George spun his body, maybe a little too quickly, and faced the voice he knew a little too well. It wasn't as deranged or sing-songy as when the masked man had been chasing him, but it was still the same voice. The man was leaning against the wall, close to what could be called the entrance to the cave, though it was more of a big hole than an entrance. 

The man lifted his head and George could feel him looking at him. "Are you deaf? I said lay down." George stiffened up at the rise in the man's voice, but didn't make a move to lay down. Instead, he shifted, slowly shuffling further away from the man. His head was spinning, and he knew he needed to lay back down, but there was no way in hell he was gonna take orders from a-

The man sighed heavily and stood up. George tensed and his heart rate sped up.  _ My axe- _ George thought, glazing around for his stone weapon.  _ Where's my axe? _ Before George could locate it, the man had a hand around his wrist. Fear pricked at George's heart and began to struggle.  _ This can't be where I die, not because of a Hunter!!  _ "Stop struggling you damn, stupid-" The man started, expression unreadable under his mask. He was cut short when George kicked him as hard as he could in the shins, his grip loosening on his wrist, just enough for him to break free.

George quickly rose to his feet, ignoring how dizzy he was, his head still muddy and slow. He kicked the man again in the stomach and began to walk away. But his limbs cried out in pain, begging him to stop moving. Swaying on his feet, George placed a hand to the wall to steady himself. He had to leave, he had to get out of here. He noticed his axe against the wall and picked it up, the weight of it feeling ten times worse than it ever had been. 

"H-hey, wait a moment now," The man tried saying, standing up and holding his stomach. "Just hear me-" George didn't give him time to finish as he brought the blunt end down on his head, the man falling back unconscious. He stared at him for a moment longer, his hood up around his head, obscuring most details about his attacker. George sniffed and kicked a rock, the stone hitting the man in the shoulder, before he turned and clambered out of the cave.  _ Good riddance. _ He thought, heading toward a small mountain in the distance, dotted with trees and devoid of snow. If George hurried, he might be able to make it there in the next few days.

And if his head was clearer, he would have thought to take the man's pack. But all his mind could think of was  _ run _ .

* * *

Dream woke up during the night, head pounding. He sat up and scowled. What had he been thinking, trying to save the bastard? How rude could someone be?! Dream had tried to  _ save _ him!! And all he got as thanks was a bash to the head and not even the smallest word!

He stamped his foot and cursed into the night, letting his childish rage be carried on the wind when it struck him just how stupidly upset he was by this betrayal. Why was he so mad about it?

Dream shook himself. It didn't matter.  _ But I'm  _ definitely _ going to kill the rude asshole now.  _ Dream thought, ignoring the odd feeling rising in his chest.

He looked around and decided that either George was really dumb, or was  _ really _ tired because everything was still the same , he didn't even think the boy had tried to look at Dream's face, which he was grateful for.

Dream stood up and brushed himself off, letting his markings and tail glow softly in the dim light, giving him some sight in the moonless night. He ignored the odd feeling in his chest again as he thought about George and how the smaller man probably couldn't see three feet in front of him.

_ All the better!! _ Dream thought, picking his pack up and slinging it over his shoulders.  _ Maybe watching him trip and flail in the dark will make for a more entertaining hunt! _ But the feeling in his chest never faded. 

Heading out of the cave, Dream looked to the ground, hoping that maybe there were tracks in the sand. When he found none, he sighed. He never did like using the compass, it had always felt like cheating to him.

Pulling out the circle of metal, watching the needle point out to a distant forest, he began to run to catch up to the shorter boy.  _ Of course the idiot wants to go to the forest, Dream. _ Dream thought, storing the compass in his pocket and dimming his glowing markings so his target wouldn’t see him coming. He had no idea how far away George was after all, and he wasn’t about to let the element of surprise slip through his fingers.  _ He can’t stay in the desert and  _ live _ after all. _

As he ran, the odd feeling in his chest dulled, thinking about how the boy with the blue scarf had decided to head to the sheltered forest instead of trying to brave the dry dunes.

He distantly wondered what the small man had done to have the Hunters Assembly target him.  _ He’s probably just a criminal, like the others. _ Dream tried thinking. But in the back of his mind and at the bottom of his heart, he didn’t fully believe that.

Dream had been running for a few hours at least when he vaulted over a ravine...and distantly heard a choked scream. Coming from the ravine…

And if Dream could recognize anyone’s scream, it would be George’s.

He skidded to a stop on the other side and turned back to the gaping scar in the earth. Peering over the edge, Dream listened again for that tell-tale scream, the frills behind his ears lifting to pick up any subtle sounds that would echo against the plunging walls of the ravine. He never heard a scream, but a short yelp gave Dream the same result.

Pulling out a long rope from his pack, finding a nearby boulder to tie it to, Dream climbed down the side, the odd feeling returning to his chest once more. Once he was down, Dream found himself sprinting to the source of the pained cries. George was in trouble again, no doubt.

As he turned a corner, he saw his target running clumsily away from a few mobs- a lumbering zombie and a skeleton- weary fear tracing every line of his face, desperateness in every movement. He watched as the skeleton shot an arrow, the projectile planting itself in George’s leg, making the already exhausted boy topple over with a muffled shriek.

Dream watched George turn in fear as the Zombie neared. And as the creature came to strike, Dream pulled his bow, nocking an arrow, and quick as lightning shot the Zombie between the eyes, causing it to waver and then collapse unmoving.

George spun to where Dream was standing, the masked man smiling. “You really have a bad habit of getting killed, don’t you, Beetle?” He called, nocking another arrow and aiming toward the skeleton in the distance. “Lemme help you with that!”

George’s fearful eyes flickered and his face grew hard and angry. “Dirty Hunter bastard!! I’d never accept help from  _ you _ !!”

Dream let the arrow fly, landing it in one of the arms of the boney creature. He glanced over to the man on the ground, the pained exhaustion in his expression so clear a newborn child could detect it. It was the first time he’d heard the man’s voice short of screams and yelps. He had a funny accent that he hadn’t been expecting. Not that he didn’t mind it though. He pulled out his iron sword and bounded past his target, discarding his bow on the ground. “Well good thing I didn’t ask if you wanted it!” He swung his weapon at the skeleton’s head and with a bone-chilling crack, the skeleton wobbled for a moment before falling into a heap of bones.

Satisfied, he turned back around to attend to his quarry, only to find the boy had dragged himself up against the wall, picking up Dream’s bow and aiming for the masked man himself. A trail of dripping red following his path and beginning to pool at the boy’s feet, staining his leg. That arrow looked painful...

In the dark light, Dream almost couldn’t see the way his hands shook as he held the bow. Dream took a step forward, but George barked at him. “Stay back!!!”

Dream rolled his eyes, not that the boy could see, and gave an exasperated sigh. He lazily put his hands up and cocked his head at George. “Yeah, alright. I’ll stay here and  _ not _ help you then. Just bleed out and die uselessly.”

George paused, shaking hands faltering for a moment. “...Why did you help me…?” He asked cautiously.

Dream flashed a smug grin. “Can’t have anything else killing you, can I, George?”

This might have been the wrong thing to say if Dream had wanted George to trust him as the short boy tensed up, panic and fear flickering in his features. He held the bow as steadily as he could, ready to fire at any time. “How the hell do you know my name?!”

Dream sighed. “God, you’re slow. They gave it to me when I got assigned to you, dumbass.” Dream took a step forward, trying to get as close as he could. The feeling in his chest was getting worse as he watched the blood pooling out of George’s leg. “Now if you just let me hel-”

George panicked, letting his arrow fly. Dream yelped as it pierced his arm. “S-stop!! I told you not to come closer!!” George called fearfully.

Dream cursed and held his arm.  _ Alright I’m done with this bullshit. That bastard is getting helped whether he likes it or not, dammit! _ Dream ignored George’s protests and stormed over, pulling the bow out of his hands, grabbing his pale wrist to stop him from scrambling away. “Calm down! I’m-” George kicked him and Dream’s temper flared. Unable to control himself, the spirals and other features that marked him as inhuman lit up brightly. “I’m  _ trying to help you _ !!” He yelled.

Now illuminated by his faint green glow, Dream saw the emotions more clearly on George’s face, rapidly flashing from fear to shock to fascination and then back to fear.

Dream realized his mistake a beat too late. “Shit…”


	2. A Small Tiredness

Dream and George stared at each other for a long moment. Then they began shouting.

"What the hell are you?!"

"I'm not telling you, but you need to sit down or something!!"

"No way!! You tried to kill me!!"

"But then I didn't!!"

"I'm  _ not _ letting some fucking  _ Hunter _ try and  _ help me _ after he hunted me down for  _ five days straight _ !!"

"If you let me help you, I'll give you a two day headstart!! You're  _ going _ to die if you keep this up and it's  _ no _ fun chasing a dead body around!!"

"Only if you tell me who or what you are!!"

"Fine!!"

"Fine!!"

They glared at one another for a long moment before Dream let go of George's wrist, turning to start a small fire. In between Dream picking up discarded branches and sticks, he held his injured arm, arrow still stuck through it. He prayed that George had sense enough to keep the arrow lodged in his leg alone, knowing that pulling it out would only make the man die faster.

By the time Dream was sparking the fire to life, George had finally decided it was okay for him to slide down and sit against the wall in a little alcove and Dream eyed him warily. The short man had closed his eyes as he leaned back, hand pressed to his injured leg in a small attempt to stop the bleeding.

Starting the fire near the bloodied man, Dream decided it best not to stare at him so openly. "...I wouldn't go to sleep if I were you, Beetle." He suggested as the wood finally caught the sparks from his flint and steel.

George opened his eyes and glared at Dream. "I know that." He hissed. But he ended up leaning back again anyway. "I'm just tired...I won't fall asleep."

Dream nodded and pulled out a small bag of uncooked meat, placing it on the fire to roast. He opened his pack and took out his inadequate medical supplies- just some bandages and a surgical needle- and crossed over to where the tired boy sat, eyes closed. He held a water bottle in hand and a small cloth in the other, wetting the cloth he gently tried to move George's hand away from the wound, only for the smaller man to tense up and grab hold of Dream's wrist, holding it as tightly as his tired body would let him.

"No. You don't get to touch me." He seethed, but when he tried to shift his legs, pain flickered across his expression and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Dream frowned. "You can't expect me to try and help you and  _ not _ touch you, idiot." He said, easily pulling his hand free from George's grasp.

George looked at him, poison in his gaze, a kind of hatred that doesn't simmer down easily. Why that made Dream a little sad, he couldn't know. "...Fine. But if you try and kill me, I'll kill you."

Dream snorted. "Alright, fine by me, dead man." He turned his attention back to the arrow in his quarry's leg. "Okay, this is gonna hurt like hell for a bit, so just bear with me and don't pass out."

George flickered his attention back to Dream, a small amount of worry reflected in his brown eyes. "What-"

Using this opportunity, Dream placed his hands on the arrow and pulled it out, maybe a little sharper than he had intended. George let out a shriek which he quickly tried to muffle to no avail.

"What the hell, Hunter!!!" George cried, tears of pain springing to the corners of his eyes. "Warn me next time!!"

Dream stuck out his tongue. "Oh boo, hoo. You wouldn't have let me take it out otherwise." He held a cloth to the wound, trying to stop the blood from weeping out and pooling at George's leg. He pulled up the pant leg to get the cloth out of the way before cleaning the injury. 

Before long, Dream tugged at George's scarf, catching his attention. "I need to sew you closed, but it's gonna hurt again." He grabbed a nearby stick and shoved it in the dark haired boy's face. "Bite down on this, kay?"

George obediently took the stick, but Dream could feel the tension in the action. Dream ignored it and prepared the needle and thread. As he began sewing the messy puncture wound, he heard muffled cries and whines from his target.

Once, maybe Dream would have found some sort of faint delight in those noises, but now they only made him...Worried? Upset? Dream couldn't quite place it, but he certainly didn't like it. He glanced at the pained boy from under his mask, seeing sweat drip down his dirty and bruised face. He really looked like hell…

Once Dream finished the stitching, he wrapped the wound in the clean white bandages and George dropped the stick, his breathing heavy. Dream moved back to the other side of the fire and began tending to his own arrow in the arm.

* * *

"...So who are you, huh?" George asked, watching the masked man take care of his own arrow wound, the one George had given him. He was so very tired, but he wanted answers first. 

The man was definitely not human, and having time to process and look at his figure, George couldn't take his eyes off him. He was tall, but not unusually so, he had a pale but slightly tanned complexion riddled with pale green vine-like swirls. Now that he had his hood down, George could also see small frill-like things planted behind his ears, twitching and flicking every once in a while like a cat's ears, what they were there for George could only wonder. His tail was the most fascinating thing about him though, thin and chord-like, it whipped back and forth like a cat's, a small tuft of fur gracing the end. It looked soft, but not furry, and was long and graceful. And all of these inhuman features had the apparent ability to glow and light up, like the glowstone lamps in the villages.

The man gripped a stick in his jaws, the object muffling his cries of pain as he pulled the arrow from his arm. Spitting it out and holding a cloth to the gushing wound, he spoke. "I'm a Hunter named Dream. A  _ pleasure _ to meet you properly, George." He hissed through his pain.

George paused, waiting for the man to stitch himself closed, the stick back in his mouth again. In the firelight the shorter man could see the Hunter's- or  _ Dream's _ \- hands trembling as he pierced the needle through his skin rhythmically. It was oddly... _ Humanizing _ to see someone that had hunted him down for so long tremble at the pain.

George caught himself.  _ What are you thinking?! _ He scolded himself.  _ He's anything  _ but  _ human! He’s a deranged lunatic with a fucking  _ tail _ and penchant for murder. Nothing could make him human… _ But even so, as George watched Dream, muffled cries, as he stitched his own arm closed, he couldn't help but think of him as at least a little human.

When Dream finished his arm, George opened his mouth again. “Alright,  _ Dream _ , what are you?”

Dream gave a low chuckle, slowly wrapping his arm. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

George’s temper flared. “We had a deal! Now spill.”

Dream sighed, finishing up with his arm and leaning back. “Fine fine. But I still can’t tell you.” He eyed the meat on the log and moved to pull them off. “I don’t actually know what I am.”

George raised an eyebrow.  _ Yeah right, sure you don’t. _ But he let it be. Maybe because Dream was feeding him. With a small bowl of pork placed in his hands, George asked another question. “Alright...So why are you after me then?” He said, placing a piece of hot meat in his mouth. It was the most delicious thing he'd eaten in days, having lived off stale and crumbling bread for the duration of the chase, running out of it two days ago.

“I probably should have asked, but I’m not entirely sure about that one either.” Dream responded, mirroring George with his food.

George snorted. “Who the hell doesn’t ask why they’re being sent to kill someone?”

“Someone who’s been doing it too long to care anymore, I guess…” Dream muttered under his breath, and George pretended not to hear or care, pushing that rising feeling down. There was no way he’d let himself feel anything for this murderer.

“So can you control your glowing?”

“Most of the time.”

“What’s those frills for?”

“Something.”

“You’re dodging the question.”

“And you’re being pushy.”

“We had a deal, idiot. I’m allowed to be pushy.”

“Well deal over, I don’t want to tell you anything.”

“Oh my  _ god _ ! You’re being a child! Now why do you wear a mask? None of the other Hunters I’ve seen wear one.”

“Privacy. No one knows what I look like, so it’s easy to blend in if I take it off.”

“Not with that bright ass yellow coat, you don’t! And you have a fucking tail!! You’re not going to be ‘blending in’ anytime soon.”

“Hey! I hid my tail from  _ you _ well enough!”

“That’s different, you were chasing me!”

“It’s not  _ that _ different!”

“Oh it is  _ very  _ different, you're just being stubborn."

"I don't like this conversation anymore, you're being mean to me."

"Ooohhhh well  _ excuse _ me for  _ hurting your feelings _ !! Not like you ever tried to do  _ anything _ rude to me!!"

Dream flashed a smile at George, the rest of his expression unreadable behind his mask. "Exactly!" He said cheerily.

George rolled his eyes and fought the smile tugging at his mouth. "You're so stupid..." He stifled a yawn, failing, and leaned his head back against the stoney wall, closing his eyes for just a moment. He was so tired...He felt like he could sleep for days…

George jumped slightly as something hit him in the chest, his eyes shooting open to see a bedroll in his lap.

Dream was staring at the fire when he spoke, tail quietly flicking up and down from the ground. "Sleep. You need it more than me. I'll wake you up in a few hours or something."

George glared at him. "You're gonna kill me in my sleep, aren't you?"

Dream gave a soft chuckle. "If I kill you in your sleep, I give you full consent to haunt me mercilessly."

George hesitated for just a moment before unraveling the bedroll against the wall. "If you kill me, I'm going to make sure to be the worst ghost ever." He laid himself down carefully, avoiding as much movement in his leg as possible.

"Right..." Dream said, a grin twitching at the edge of his lips.

And as George drifted off to sleep, a little quicker than he might have liked with his killer still awake, he thought he heard someone humming…

* * *

Dream watched the boy sleep, turning restlessly in his sleep. He seemed to be having some sort of nightmare.

He sighed and leaned his head back, gazing at the stars and humming softly, a tune he never knew the name of, but the notes clear in his head as if the song lived there, like that was where it belonged.

He looked around the ravine, glancing at his lone rope hanging from the top. Dream wouldn't be able to get George out with just that alone and they needed to get somewhere safer. So he stood up and began looking around, making sure to keep the sleeping boy in his sight.

But there didn't seem to be any way out of the place other than Dream's rope.  _ I can maybe climb out on my own, _ Dream began to think, lightly touching his arm.  _ But I don't know if George can...Maybe if… _ Dream's mind turned as he stared at the rope, thoughts and ideas beginning to form. He crossed over to the rope, knowing how to get George out of the ravine.  _ He won't like it, but he'll have to deal with it. _ And as Dream worked, he began to hum again, sparing glances at the sleeping boy and down the long shafts of the ravine, keeping an eye out for stray mobs.

* * *

George woke up with a start, like he'd been doing for the past months, unable to shake the nightmares that constantly plagued his mind now. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart, and glanced down to find a water bottle next to him. He uncorked it and took a long sip. While he was still far from well-rested, George couldn't deny that he  _ had _ managed to sleep. And that was better than anything he'd done in months.

The dark haired boy glanced to the other side of the now dead fire and he tensed up for a moment, staring at Dream. He was curled up on the ground, his large yellow coat covering most of his body. His alien tail moving every now and then in his sleep, like an animal's. His mask remained on his face, but even without seeing all of his expression, Dream looked...Almost  _ peaceful _ to George…

George shook off any sympathetic emotions rising in his chest and looked up to the pale blue sky. It was past dawn by maybe a few hours, and George became frustrated with the masked hunter. He had said that he'd wake George up, but instead he'd just fallen asleep, the asshole.

He glanced over at the sleeping man for a moment longer before he grabbed a nearby stick, tossing the solid object at Dream's head.

The man shot awake and yelped. "Ow, what the hell, George?!" He cried, his markings flashing slightly, though the colors were less visible in the daylight.

"You said you would wake me up and you didn't,  _ very rudely _ !" George huffed at him. "Besides, we need to find a way out of this overdramatic ditch."

Dream chuckled at George's words, making the man smile slightly. While Dream hadn't given a full laugh yet, his small chuckles and giggles were soft and sincere, contagious and bright despite their subtlety. George hated it.

"Don't worry, I figured a way out of here for us last night." Dream said, sitting up and stretching.

"You did?" George asked, beginning to roll up Dream's bedroll.

Dream nodded, standing and brushing loose rocks and dust off himself. "Yeah, but you're not gonna be happy about it, Beetle."

George scoffed. "Anything I have to do with you I hate."

"Exactly."

"So what stupid thing do I have to do to get out of this hell hole?"

"Nothing, actually. I'll be doing all the heavy lifting. Literally..."

George cocked his head and Dream jabbed his thumb over to a rope cascading over the edge of the ravine. The bottom had a loop tied in it and suddenly George knew what was going on. "Oh  _ hell _ no!!" He exclaimed. "I am  _ not _ letting you drag me up the side of a pit!!"

Dream scoffed and George was sure he must be rolling his eyes under that mask of his. "Well too bad because it's the only way out."

"There  _ has _ to be another way."

"Not unless you're magically healed and can scale a ravine wall."

"Your arm is hurt too, dumbass!"

"Yeah but I'm still in better shape than you."

"Oh, fuck off!"

Dream sputtered out a messy laugh and George pouted. "What? Now you're gonna cuss me out cause I'm telling the truth?" George stubbornly refused to admit his own childish actions. "Whatever. Here," He tossed George a roll of bread and the short boy caught it in his arms. "Breakfast!" Dream said, smiling slightly as he pulled an apple out for himself.

They munched on their short meals in silence and when they finished, Dream asked about George's leg.

"It's doing fine." George said curtly, not exactly wanting to keep up a conversation with the man who would be hunting him down again as soon as they left the ravine.

"Oh. That's good, then." Dream said, maybe a little too softly. Maybe a little too kindly. George bit his lip and looked at anything but the masked man.

"Thank you, by the way." George finally let out. "You know, for not killing me last night."

Dream let out an amused breath. "I'd say the same, but I'm not too sure you were even capable of that last night."

"I'll have you know I could have completely murdered you in your sleep this morning!!" George bristled, letting the bubbles of amusement settle welcomingly in his chest. "I think I deserve a thank you for that!"

Dream scoffed, but got up and bowed dramatically toward George. "My humblest apologies, sir George the jackass-"

"Hey now-"

"-I thank you deeply and sincerely for sparing my puny life!!" Dream looked back up at George, a smirk on his face, the rest of his expression unreadable, his tail flicking amusedly back and forth. "I shall not forget to thank you again."

George rolled his eyes, smiling. "That's more like it!" He stood up shakily and tossed the folded bedroll at Dream. "Now I demand you pull me up the cliffside!"

* * *

George's happy demeanor quickly faded once they started over to the rope, Dream assuming the unsavory thought of having to be dragged up the side of a ravine by his soon-to-be killer returning to the short boy's mind. Dream didn't blame him.

By the time they had prepared for the climb, Dream and George's injuries checked and food and water divided up (George had demanded that they be given equal shares of food, in exchange Dream would only give the short man a one day headstart once they reached the forested hills in the distance.) The sun was directly overhead. It wasn't the most ideal time of day to start their trek over the horrible, scorching dunes, but it wasn't like they had much of a choice- neither of the two men wanted to spend more time with each other than was absolutely necessary.

"Well..." Dream said staring up the rope. "See you at the top, I suppose." And with a short nod from George, he began climbing. His arm flared up in pain, but it was far from the worst thing that could have happened, so Dream didn't complain. At least not a  _ lot _ .

"HEY GEORGE!!!" Dream called, halfway up the cliff face.

"YEAH?" Came George's echoing reply.

"DO YOU KNOW ANY METHODS OF KILLING THE SUN?!"

"YOU'RE SUCH A CHILD!! JUST DEAL WITH IT!!"

"BUT IT'S SO FUCKING HOT, GEORGE!! YOU'LL BE LUCKY IF I DON'T SHRIVEL UP AND DIE BEFORE I REACH THE TOP!!"

"SHUT UP, DREAM!! YOU'RE BEING DRAMATIC AS HELL! BESIDES, YOU NEED TO SAVE YOUR BREATH FOR CLIMBING, IDIOT!!"

Dream did shut up after that. He hated to admit it, but George was right. He did need to save his breath.

Once at the top, Dream took a few minutes to catch said breath, dowsing his parched throat and mentally complained about his coat, knowing that if he took it off he'd only be worse off. After ten minutes he peered over the edge, waving to George's small figure below. Watching the man climb in through the loop at the bottom of the rope, Dream walked over to the rock he had tied the rope around, now grateful the sandy rock protruded from the ground, standing taller than the other rocks. It would make it easier to wind the rope around it so Dream wouldn't have to worry about dropping the man.

And god, was it slow going.

Dream had to stop multiple times to catch his breath, leaving George hanging in the air. He hadn't noticed that his crude stitching on his arm had snapped and come loose, the slick red liquid beginning to seep down his arm again.

But George reached the top eventually, and the two boys sat down in the sand for a moment before the shorter of the two noticed the red splotches that had started mixing with the sand below Dream.

"Hey, are you okay? I think your stitching came out." George pointed.

Dream looked down at the bloody sand and glanced at his arm, pulling the large green sleeve back to reveal the dripping red bandage, trails of blood trickling down his arm and  _ plip, plip, plip _ ing on the grainy dunes.  _ Shit… _ Dream thought bitterly.  _ I didn't even notice… _ "It's not my fault you're heavy!!" Dream joked lightly.

George rolled his eyes. "Ha, ha, whatever, jackass. You wanna stop and clean that up?"

Dream shook his head. "We don't have that kind of time right now, I'll wrap it a little tighter and fix it tonight. It's not that bad right now." He said, tail waving back and forth.

Dream could tell George wanted to argue, but the man just shrugged his shoulders, tossing his scarf over his head to protect his head from the blazing sun. "Whatever. Let's just get out of here."

And that's exactly what they did.

They walked in silence for a short while before George finally asked a question.

"Your humming is annoying, Dream."

Dream stopped, not even realizing he'd been humming. He smiled. "C’mon, Beetle! Have a bit of spirit! It's not like there's anything else to listen to out here."

George sighed. "Oh sure, except my own thoughts. I can't think with that song in my ear."

Dream scoffed, tail flicking. "You can't hear your own thoughts over my  _ humming _ ? Wow, I can't imagine just how  _ hard _ it must be for you to think on a normal day!!" Dream laughed out loud, his breath wheezing slightly. “Drowned out by  _ humming _ !! Pffttt!!”

George reached over and punched Dream’s good arm. “I’ve had a long few days, idiot!! Besides, it's annoying as hell.”

Dream calmed his giggles, settling for a pleasant smile. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. We’re almost out of here anyway.”

And he had been right. By the time the sun was setting, they were only a few hours away from the stream that separated the forest and desert.

Dream paused halfway through the murky water, not hearing George splash in behind him, turning he looked at the shorter man. “Hey, what’s the holdup?” He asked, his glowing tail illuminating the water around him.

George glanced down at the dirty water and then at his injured leg. “I’ll uh, I think I’ll find a shallower end or something.”

Dream sighed. “That’ll take even longer though, and you’ll still risk getting an infection…” Muttering curses under his breath, Dream crossed back over to his quarry. “I can just carry you across.”

George stiffened, taking a step back. “Oh  _ hell _ no!! There is no-”

Dream rolled his eyes. God, this man was stubborn… without waiting for George to stop his talking, Dream picked him up and threw him over his shoulder, a dramatic shriek falling from the dark haired boy’s mouth.

“Put me the  _ fuck _ down, Dream!!” George seethed, but the blonde boy ignored him, wading back through the water.

Gracelessly dropping George to the ground on the other side, Dream gave the boy an exasperated look, knowing he wouldn’t be able to decipher most of it. “Was that  _ so _ bad?” George opened his mouth and looked like he was ready to argue, but the taller stopped him. “Stop being a pussy. I’m gonna go start a fire.” And Dream left George sputtering at the shore. He honestly couldn’t help but smile a little. Sure, George was annoying and difficult at times, but he also enjoyed the company.

_ A shame I’ll still have to kill him in a few days… _

* * *

George sat at the fire and stared into the flickering yellow-ish flames, refusing to watch Dream patch himself back up. He was doing it all wrong, but it’s not like George could spare the energy to care.

“You’re doing it wrong.” He found himself saying anyway. “If you stitch it like that it’ll come out the moment you put any stress on it. It’s why it came out the first time.”

Dream’s mask stared at George for a while. “Oh yeah...?” He asked softly, his voice between asking it out loud and to himself, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask for instruction from the man he was going to hunt down in less than a day’s time.

George sighed and pushed himself up, crossing to Dream’s arm. “Gimme that,” He said, a little softer than he’d expected. He wasn’t even that sure why he was helping him. Taking the needle, he began backtracking Dream’s stitches, causing the man to suck in sharp breaths.

“If you want the stitches to hold,” He began, nudging Dream to look at what George was doing. “You’re gonna want to do this.” He explained, beginning to sew the wound closed.

Dream watched closely, but as George worked, he had nearly forgotten he was there until the blonde man spoke, the noise soft and quiet, but still loud in George’s ear due to proximity. It made him shiver slightly. “What about your stitches? Are they done wrong too?”

George spared a short glance up at his pursuer’s masked face before returning his eyes to his work. “Yeah. I wasn’t thinking right last night and didn’t exactly notice the difference. It’ll be fine for now, but once they come loose I’ll have to restitch mine too.”

Dream nodded and continued to watch George closely, his figure lighting up and glowing a soft yellow, his tail flickering back and forth.

When George finished, he wrapped up the wound and moved back to his side of the fire. The rest of the evening was spent in relative silence until Dream spoke up again.

“Uh...Thanks. For...that.”

George nodded. “No problem. Thanks for, you know, pulling me out of that hole…”

A silence smoothed over them and George finally laid down, bidding Dream a good night.

And as he drifted off, he didn’t find the humming so annoying anymore…

* * *

_ George wasn’t sure where he was this time, but it was terribly cold. _

_ He was sure he was running again, this time he was running from a pack of overly large wolves. _

_ His feet pounding on the frozen ground, his heavy breath puffing out in front of him, George let out a scream as a wolf locked it’s jaws around his leg, searing pain sprouting from the action, blood pouring around the creature’s snarling teeth. _

_ George let out a cry and kicked the wolf as hard as he could, hearing it yelp. He stood up and ran faster, the blood around his leg pooling out faster the harder he ran. _

_ Suddenly he saw a tall masked man in the distance, his blonde hair flickering in the wind and whip-like tail wavering back and forth in the air. _

_ “Dream!!!” George called out, reaching out his hand. “Help me!!!” He cried desperately. _

_ Dream turned and looked at George, the man looked down at his hands, a diamond knife resting in his palm and he smiled. _

_ “Dream?” George asked, slowing near him. His heart rate was rising as he heard the savage dogs barking behind him. “Dream, they’re getting closer!” _

_ The masked man turned to George, the smile on his face calm, nearly kind and welcoming. “Oh, Beetle…” He said, almost sounding remorseful. The dogs neared and Dream grabbed George’s scarf gently in his hands. “You’re supposed to run from me, remember?” _

_ And George watched in horror as the man pushed him back, the bloodthirsty pack snapping their jaws around his arms and body. _

_ Dream watched George as he screamed, flailing around, tears streaking down his bare cheeks and blood gushing out of his broken body. _

_ And as George began to accept the horrible, inevitable result of death, he sobbed with one thought in mind. _

__ I thought I could trust you…

_ “Oh George...poor fool...you should have never trusted anyone.” _

* * *

George woke up from his nightmare in a cold sweat, the very edge of the sun beginning to lighten the sky. He glanced over to where Dream slept on the ground, pale yellow tail twitching peacefully beside him.

The short man let out a shaky sigh before gathering his things quietly. He didn’t like this feeling in his heart, but it didn’t matter. What George  _ wanted _ didn’t matter. He did what he had to to survive. And if he wanted to stay alive, his emotions couldn’t get mixed in.

So as the sun began to shine lightly on the ground, George shouldered his pack, taking one last glance at Dream.

_ I wish I could believe you wouldn’t hurt me… _ He thought, a bitter edge to the words.  _ Maybe in another life we could have been friends, Dream. _

George turned and sighed, beginning into the forest and leaving the sleeping man on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really to say about the chapter, but I will comment on my updating schedule: While later on I'll probably have a once a week updating routine, as of now I'm just going to be updating as I finish chapters, so expect a little messy 1-2 chapters a week until I fall back into the feel of updating :)  
> Till next time, Stay Fresh and Minty, folks!


	3. Slower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I JUST posted a chapter yesterday, but I got a writer's high so here's another! it's a little bit shorter than the other two, but I hope you don't mind!!
> 
> Cw for this chapter: There's a nightmare sequence (again) that has a very dead cat in it. Just in case any of you are sensitive to animal death :(

Dream woke up to the sounds of morning birds surrounding him and the sun at his back. It was the most peaceful he’d felt in a long time and made him think of sweet things, things far away from what his life was. He let himself enjoy the sounds a moment longer, not wanting to disturb such a kind moment so quickly.

Eventually reality caught up to him and Dream sighed, turning over and opening his eyes to stare up at the sky through the branches of the trees. As he thought about what this day would entail, Dream felt his heart sink. He’d be going back to hunting George. Sure it’d be fun, but he’d miss the brunette’s talking.

He turned his head to look at where George should have been sleeping...But found he wasn’t there.

Sitting up, Dream looked around for the boy with a blue scarf. Seeing nothing, Dream stood up and turned in circles. Maybe he was just...Looking for more food?

Dream smothered the hurt feelings in his chest, seeing all of George’s stuff gone, and kicked at the ground, the dry dirt puffing up in a small cloud around his feet. _Didn’t even say goodbye…_ Dream thought bitterly. _Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I was going to kill him anyway._

Taking a deep breath, Dream began gathering up his things, pulling an apple out of his pack to munch on. He absently took out his compass, the needle pointing out into the forest, before putting it away. He had a whole day to waste before he went after George anyway. He could gather more food, or rest up more.

Dream’s fingers moved unconsciously to his arm, the same one George had stitched up the night before. Dream tried to smile.

“Thanks, George.” He said quietly. “I’m sorry you have to die so soon.”

* * *

George must admit he felt a little bad about leaving Dream before the taller boy had woken up, but it also meant he had even more of a headstart. The short boy had a plan in mind now too. He would get a good distance away from where Dream was, hunting and gathering other materials along the way, setting a trap or two every now and again knowing at this point that Dream was too good at tracking to _not_ know what direction George went in.

And after almost five hours had passed, George had fallen back into the feel of being hunted.

The only thing he regretted was not taking Dream’s surgical needle with him. Especially when night finally rolled around and George tripped over a log in the dark, feeling the improper stitching in his leg come loose, just as he’d expected.

George convinced himself it’d be fine. He was fine. Everything was fine.

But falling back into the swing of things also meant the fear returned. It had briefly left his body while walking and chatting with Dream, but now he couldn’t stop the horrible panic in his chest whenever he thought he heard something moving in the bushes. He almost didn’t sleep that night, despite knowing he still had an entire night before Dream would start hunting him again.

And even in his sleep, the fear never let go of him. Another horrible nightmare clung to his mind in which he was being pursued by a horde of zombies before being chased right off a cliff to a twisted death at the rocky bottom.

When he woke up, he started walking again. Dream would be coming for him soon and if he wasn’t careful, George would find himself dead in the next day or two. He was frustrated with his leg, the pain of it beginning to flair up as he trekked up hills and over rocks. The good news was that it was getting cooler the further he went in, so at least it wasn’t sweltering anymore.

It had been an entire two days since George had left Dream alone, and his injured leg was nearly unbearable to walk on now. So when the short man stumbled across a small village hidden in the hills, George thanked whatever deities had been watching over him.

The village was small, sure, but he hoped it would have what he needed in it. He walked up to one of the small trade stands with specific questions in mind.

“Ho there, stranger!” The shopkeeper said happily. “What can I do ya for?”

George forced a friendly smile in return. “I was wondering if you had a doctor here? I had a bit of a scuffle with a skeleton a while ago and didn’t walk away unscathed.”

The shopkeeper whistled. “Sounds rough. But I’m sorry to say we ain’t got a doctor no more.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did they have any tools they left behind?”

“Sure. I think Carolina has them now.”

“Can you-”

“Third house on the left from the butcher’s.”

George nodded, no longer faking his faint smile. “Thank you.” He dropped a few emeralds on the counter and the man smiled back in exchange.

When he reached the small house, he began bartering for the leftover medical supplies with the old woman that had greeted him at the door. She was friendly enough, but drove a hard bargain, leaving George with only four remaining emeralds and a small medical kit.

Spending the rest of his emeralds on bread and a few apples, George left the village. As much as he wished he could stay, he didn’t feel right around the people. It made him uneasy that they knew nothing of what had happened to him or why he’d shown up.

So George left as the sun began setting, retreating up a hill a ways and keeping the village lights in his sight. He made a small fire and in the dull light unwrapped his leg carefully from the bloodied bandages, removing the broken stitches as Dream had done days before.

_Curse Dream and his shitty stitching…_ George thought bitterly as he recleaned the wound. _It’s cause of him I’m here, dammit...Bitchy, whiney, stupid ass Hunter…_ George complained to himself as he sewed his leg closed again, ignoring the stinging that pricked his eyes at his thoughts. But thinking about the masked man, a different image came to his mind.

_Dream laughing in the desert._

_Dream struggling to stitch up wounds._

_Dream sleeping on the ground as George left him behind._

George had more nightmares that night.

* * *

It didn’t take much longer before Dream was on George’s heels again, but their chases felt different now…

“Oh, George~!! Come on out to play, Georgie!!” Dream sung as George hid in a nearby tree, waiting for the hunter to pass him by. He could backtrack after that and maybe evade him.

He held his breath until Dream’s voice had faded away before he climbed back down from the tree.

But as soon as his feet touched the dirt, something tackled him from behind and George found himself pinned to the ground by Dream, not for the first time.

“C’mon, Beetle!! I _know_ you’re better than that!” Dream smiled, pinning George’s wrists to the ground. Though the masked man hadn’t made an effort of pinning his legs down…

George smiled back at him. “I could say the _same_ !” He said, kicking Dream in the stomach. As the blonde’s grip on George loosed, the short boy stood up and began sprinting away as quickly as his injured leg would carry him. And as he ran, he couldn’t hear his pursuer behind him. _Dream was letting him go…_

George cleared his head of the thought. _No, he wouldn’t just_ let _me go. I must have just kicked him_ really _hard…_ But George knew somewhere in his mind that couldn’t be true. He just didn’t want to admit to himself what he had been so scared of for the past few days Dream had been catching and letting George go. 

~~_He doesn’t want to hunt me anymore…_~~

* * *

Dream had to give George some credit. He was _good_ at setting traps.

Before he had caught up to the blue scarfed man, he had fallen into four different traps- obviously set up by the man he’d been hunting for over a week, each increasingly more annoying than the last.

But Dream eventually caught up and had been on George’s trail for nearly another week, but for some reason, it felt... _different_ …

It wasn’t as exciting anymore. All the hunt did was make Dream...feel _something_. What it was, Dream didn’t like to think about. He didn’t like what that feeling meant for him. He was scared of what it meant…

So he didn’t think about it.

And he was convinced George was getting better at escaping from him- How else would you explain how often George got away? Surely it wasn’t _Dream_ that was getting sloppy...Right?

But Dream knew what he was doing, somewhere in his head.

_You’re just playing with him,_ He thought one night, tail flicking in the dark as he watched George sleeping high up in a tree, away from potential enemies. ~~_Away from Dream_.~~

_You just don’t want to go back to the capital. And besides,_ Dream looked over to where a stray skeleton had caught sight of the boy in the tree and picked up his bow, aiming carefully and letting the arrow arch neatly in the air before planting itself in the skeleton’s skull before it had the chance to shoot one of its crooked arrows at the sleeping boy. _It’s not like I don’t_ want _to kill him! I just…_ Dream swiftly cut off his train of thought, seeing where it was headed. He hated it when his own thoughts betrayed him like that.

Dream let out a puff of air and curled up on the ground. He’d kill George eventually. He would. Dream was sure of it. _I’ll kill him…_ But as Dream drifted off to sleep, he thought of something a little different.

_George talking with Dream in the ravine._

_George smiling softly at things said._

_George quietly stitching Dream’s arm shut._

Dream had a nightmare for the first time in a while that night.

* * *

_Dream was walking around the empty halls of the Academy again. It had been years since he’d been here, but everything still seemed to be the same- right down to the sneering faces of children. A few snickered as he passed by._

_“Mask boy is back from the basement again!!”_

_“Maybe we should start calling him the boogie man!!! He sure_ looks _like a monster!!"_

_"He's gonna get what's coming to him, that's for sure!!"_

_Dream kept walking, slower, slower. He didn't care what they had to say. Their words didn't hurt much._

_It was what happened next that hurt so horribly more._

_Opening the door to his dorm room, Dream stopped and looked on in horror. His walls were covered in dark, horrible blood, the red liquid dripping from every surface like a tornado of gore had torn through his room._

_In the center of his wall was a cat, pinned up in segments and twisted apart. It was Dream's cat. He'd named her Patches._

_He could hardly hear the kids laughing behind him, it was a different voice that caught his attention._

_"I thought we made it clear to you that you had to get rid of that creature."_

_Dream felt hot tears roll down his face under his mask. "She never did anything wrong…she just wanted somewhere warm to stay…"_

_"She was your target, Clay. You should have taken this more seriously."_

_"But she wasn't hurting anything!"_

_"Liar!!! She made you weak!!"_

_The image morphed and suddenly it wasn't a cat on the wall._

_Dream covered his mouth and tried not to vomit._

_"You should have killed him, too, Clay. Now look what we had to do. We've wasted too much time on this inferior beetle and it's your fault."_

_Dream couldn't speak. He could hardly breathe, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the twisted and broken body before him._

_"...I never wanted this…!" He managed to choke out, his legs buckling from beneath him. "He wasn't a bad person!!"_

_"It doesn't matter who your target is, you must destroy them at all costs!!!" The person behind Dream leaned down to his ear. "This is what happens when you disobey orders, Dream. Look well upon his body, and know that next time we won’t be so kind."_

_Dream sobbed into his chest as the person left, locking the door behind them so Dream couldn't escape the brutality of the image before him._

_And as Dream sobbed, he could only think one thing, the line repeating over and over and over again._

My fault, my fault, my fault.

_It was all Dream's fault that George hung on the wall._

_And he would not soon forget it._

* * *

Dream woke up gasping for breath, the sun beginning to rise. He glanced around before pushing his mask into his hair. The wind blew gently and suddenly Dream's face grew very cold. Reaching up with a hand, he felt a wetness on his cheeks.

_He was still crying._

Dream didn’t try to hunt George that day.

* * *

It had been almost three weeks since the two boys had parted ways and Dream hadn’t tried much at all to hunt George it seemed.

The few times it did happen, Dream would trap George, a smile upon his face. But then he’d stop all too suddenly, the smile would vanish completely and the masked man would back away, letting the short boy escape.

George had stopped sleeping in trees and even started feeling safe enough to build fires now. A month had finally passed and Dream began camping closer and closer to where George made his fires, now close enough that if George wanted, he could carry a conversation with the man without losing his voice because of shouting, but still far enough away the light of George's fire couldn’t reach him. They never did speak though.

Why was it so difficult to ignore Dream? George could tell something was wrong (Or maybe right) and wished he could help him.

Truth be told, George believed they were both past the point of wanting to kill- Or run away from in George’s case- each other. He wasn’t sure what _exactly_ had happened to change things, but he wasn’t so sure it was a bad thing.

One night George spotted Dream on a nearby hill, his tail curling around his body, expression unreadable under the childish mask. George sighed as the fire crackled beside him.

He walked up the hill and Dream looked up at the man with the blue scarf.

George held out his hand. “Do...Do you want to come sit by the fire?”

Dream looked at George’s hand for a moment and shivered in a cold that wasn’t there. “Why would I want to do that?” He might have meant it to come out a bit brighter, but it fell horribly flat and was edged with regret.

George sighed heavily, not wanting to leave the blonde on the hill by himself. “Have it your way, I guess…” But as George turned to walk back to his fire, Dream spoke again.

“W-wait. I…” George turned around and saw the man standing, the air of hesitance surrounding him in a thick cloud, George didn’t need to know what was behind the mask to see Dream wasn’t sure what he should do.

George moved forward softly and grabbed one of Dream’s hands. “C’mon.” He said lightly. “There’s plenty of room.”

And George turned and led his once-killer to his flickering fire.

The brunette would have missed the way Dream found himself staring at the man he couldn’t bring himself to kill. He would have missed the way he reached under his mask and brushed his eyes. He would have missed the way Dream smiled and breathed, wordlessly, _thank you_ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I mentioned at the beginning, I KNOW I just posted a chapter yesterday, But I got really excited about this chapter and I have a bad habit of needing to share things as soon as I finish them :/ I don't think you guys mind much though lol
> 
> Anyway! We get a lot of sad boi Dream in this chapter!! and lil bit of soft George at the end. as a treat. Anyway I LOVE writing this story so much and I can't wait to bring you more!! Till next time, Stay Fresh and Minty, Folks!


	4. Not Actually A Chapter (just Art)

Hey i just wanted to let y'all see what Dream looks like (kind of) I'm not the best artist so bare with me here, and i might get a sketch of George done too.

But this is Dream without his big coat on!! (Might draw him with it on later who knows)

(Note: Sorry it's hard to see the green swirls on his skin, but they're there I promise!!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see some of my other art and stuff, i post drawings from time to time on my tumblr account @pixelatedrose!! I've done a few mcyt art works and will probably be posting more in the future! Stay Fresh and Minty, Folks!


	5. Where Now?

Dream sat at the fire, George across from him.

What was he doing? He should be killing George right now. But the thought of killing the brown eyed boy made Dream sick to his stomach, the image of his twisted and bloodied body seared into his mind from weeks ago.

“You look tired, Dream.” George’s soft voice snapped the masked man out of his mind.

Dream _was_ tired. He had tried to sleep as little as possible, the same few nightmares cycling through his head every time he closed his eyes. How George was able to tell through his mask, Dream would never know. Perhaps Dream was so visually exhausted he didn’t need to know what emotions danced behind his hidden eyes…

“Aren’t we all?” He said, giving a light chuckle only to reach up his hand to cover a yawn.

George shrugged. “I suppose.”

A silence settled on the two, the only sounds between them being the crackling and snapping fire and a far off owl.

Dream lifted his knees to his chest, resting his chin on his legs. “I guess I should ask...” He said lightly.

George raised an eyebrow and poked at the fire. “Ask what?”

“Well…where now?”

Another silence settled on them and Dream almost regretted asking the heavy words.

George poked the fire again and gave out a sigh. “Well, that depends I suppose. Are you going to go back to killing me?”

Dream’s eyes flashed behind his mask, George’s twisted image came to his mind again and it was all Dream could do to not flinch. “...No.” He responded.

“Then the question I guess is what will _you_ do?” George said. His voice was matter of fact, but soft, like he was trying to help a child make a rational decision. “I have to keep traveling. But…”

Dream looked up, George pointedly looking at anything but the blonde man. “But…?” He echoed. He seemed hopeful for something. What was Dream expecting George to say? What was it he wanted him to say…?

George rubbed the back of his neck. “But I guess I wouldn’t mind the company…” He said carefully, lightly, like it was a sweet idea rather than something possible. He quickly backtracked though. “I mean, only if you wanted to come with me. I can’t make you do anything.”

Dream’s chest felt light and he smiled softly, entertaining the idea of traveling with someone- someone _good_ \- someone he didn’t have to kill… “I think I’d like that...It’s not like I can go back now, anyway…”

“Right...Do you have anywhere else…?”

Dream shook his head, tail flicking slightly. “Just the capital and Academy…”

“Academy? You went to school?”

Dream gave a low chuckle. “No, not exactly. Yeah, I got the bare minimum education, but we’re taught something very different at the Academy.”

George cocked his head slightly in question and Dream sighed. _It’s not like it matters if I keep their secrets anymore. I’m not going back…_ “The Academy- The Hunter’s Academy- Is where we’re all taught to hunt. I don’t like it there much…”

George stared for a moment. “I...I didn’t know they _taught_ stuff like that...How come I’ve never heard of it?”

“Dunno. They don’t like making it public for some reason. I’d say it’s cause of bad publicity, but I don’t think The Hunter’s Assembly is well liked in the first place.”

“Well _that’s_ for sure.” George said, poking one last time at the fire, a log shifting, sending orange embers up in a plume of soft heat. “Well, we should get some rest. We’ll be traveling again tomorrow.”

Dream looked up. “I never did ask, but where are you going?”

George lay down on his side, facing the masked man across the softly dying flames. “Somewhere to find some answers...Not even sure the place exists yet.”

“Okay then, why?”

George looked away, turning himself to the stars. “Cause I can.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Beetle.” Dream said, laying down on the dirt as well. He didn’t press any further and the two companions soon drifted off to sleep, though neither of them could say that it was particularly restful, their mind’s littered with images of horrible things.

Someone dead on the ground, _his fault_.

Running endlessly, _but never escaping_.

When would the nightmares end?

...Was it even possible anymore…?

* * *

George woke up to the slightly chill morning air. It felt nice against his skin after his nightmare. Sighing, he ran his hands over his face and through his brown locks, as if trying to scrub the horrible dream from his mind.

Looking over, he saw a much less horrible Dream, this one curled up on the ground with a large yellow coat and a pale yellow tail. His childish mask smiling at him, slightly less bone chilling than before, maybe even a little bit silly now.

George sighed and his instincts were screaming at him that he needed to go, run, get as far away as soon as possible- with or without the tall ex-Hunter, it didn’t matter. He had to fight himself to sit still and try to relax even a little bit.

But he’d been running for far too long at this point, and his instincts quickly overcame anything rational in his mind. He quietly scattered the campfire from the previous night and walked over to the sleeping man, nudging him awake with his foot. “Wake up, Dream. We need to get moving again.”

Dream shifted and groaned. “Whhyyy…?” He whined, his voice slurred with sleep. He was so much less intimidating to George now, and felt like a distant memory of a friend- someone he once knew long ago, sweet and soft, stupid but in the best way, there but not. And now George got to know who he was now. It was an odd feeling, but not an unwelcome one.

George let out a breath. “Because we have ground to cover. I’d like to reach our destination before we die. Besides, I’d like to put as much distance between us and the capital…”

Dream finally sat up, letting out a puff of air. “Alright fine, I’m up. But I got more questions for you while we walk.” George almost caught himself being surprised. Sure, he knew what Dream had said the night before, and he knew that he was the one to offer, but he found himself a little shocked the masked man _actually_ _wanted_ to travel with him. Actually _hearing_ Dream say it- say that he was ready to walk _with_ him- It made him happy, he thought. Though George wasn’t completely sure what the feeling in his stomach was. Perhaps it was just hunger…

George let himself smile and tugged at the edges of his scarf. “Sure, I guess that’s fair.” the cleaned up their camp, covering up their tracks as thoroughly as possible, just in case another Hunter would be sent after them. And George found himself surprised at Dream’s incapability.

“I’ve never exactly had to cover _my_ trail before. If my targets found any trail, it would have just made them scared, and it’s not like I had to hide from other Hunters…” Dream said sheepishly, biting into an apple.

George snorted. “Didn’t they teach this kind of shit at the Hunter college or something?”

“The Academy, and sure, they taught it…” Dream looked away and George suddenly _really_ wanted to see under his mask, just to tease the tall boy about the probably utterly embarrassed face he was making. "I was just never good at it..."

George snorted gracelessly and chortled loudly. Not the most attractive laugh, but it was his. "Aww, poor Dream~! Don't worry, _I'll_ keep us safe from the big bad Hunters!!" He let out another laugh and Dream punched his arm.

They kept walking and Dream got to ask his questions, which were ones George had been expecting.

"So where exactly are we going?"

"I told you last night, I'm not entirely sure it exists..."

"Okay, but _where_?"

George sighed. "My m- I read a book that said there was this little village on the outskirts of the kingdom. Some sort of floating town on the water." George began, beginning to recite the words he'd been told so long ago, words he would not soon forget for the world. "In the town, there's a church of clerics who have glass marbles in their head instead of eyes."

"Oh, dude that's creepy!!" Dream responded, making a face.

George shrugged. "But that's all I know right now. They're supposed to tell me where to find something."

"What is it?" Dream asked, his curious voice reminded George of a child's.

George shrugged. "I'm not sure yet, but I think it'll help me find some new information on The People of The End...Or at least how to _get_ to The End..."

Dream stumbled, tripping over a patch of loose dirt. "T-the what?"

George looked at him curiously. "The End?" He let out a sigh and shook his head. "Sorry, I _know_ it sounds crazy, I _know_ The End is just 'a fairy tale,' but most people don't have the whole story." Dream was looking down at the ground when the brunette looked over to his new companion. "I don't know how much you know, but I was always told a different story than most kids..." George began, thinking back to his childhood. "The End is a real place. I _know_ it is. I know because my grandfather died there and my father died _trying_ to get there."

He could almost feel Dream's sad eyes through the mask. "I'm so sorry..." He breathed out.

George shrugged. "I'm not too beat up about it. I never really knew my father- only ever heard stories about him through my mom."

"Is that why you want to go there? To avenge your family?"

"No. It's an added bonus, I guess, but no. I'm going because of The People of The End."

"Who are The People of The End?"

George's eyes began to light up. "That's just the thing! No one really knows anymore. They were all wiped out in a cataclysmic event that left no survivors. Before this event, The End used to be a fairly peaceful place- just like in the Overworld. But _something_ happened one day and everything was destroyed. There weren't any survivors. But that's why I want to go to The End. I have to know what happened..."

Dream looked at George, expression hidden away under the mask. "You sure care a lot about some dead people you've never met, huh, Beetle?"

George looked away. He had his reasons. He just wasn't entirely sure he wanted to tell someone he'd just begun being friendly with.

"Well at least I know why the Assembly was after you." Dream said after a beat.

George whipped his head back to the masked man. "You do?"

The blonde nodded. "While a lot of us will be sent after criminals or runaways, and people who are ultimately more dangerous than us, we're also sent after people who go after the Ender Dragon." He stopped suddenly, extending a hand to a long blade of grass to let a small red bug crawl up his hand. "We're supposed to protect it or something. And anyone who starts poking around about The End becomes a top priority." He smiled, watching the ladybug fly away before turning his face to George. "That's why they sent me!"

George gave a light chuckle. "Oh yes, cause you're their best Hunter, mr. I-don't-know-how-to-cover-my-own-trail!"

Dream took a moment to look dramatically hurt, placing a hand to his chest. "How _dare_ you? And _I_ was going to tell you _my_ origin story! Now you'll never hear it."

George laughed, a little louder than before. "Oh come on! I _am_ curious about how the Assembly works though. Lighten up and tell me!"

Dream folded his arms, trying to hide his playful smile. "Don't wanna."

George huffed. "You're such a fucking child, Dream. Just tell me!"

"No."

"Dream!!"

"No, you're being mean."

"I am not _mean_ , you're being dramatic. Tell me!! I told you about me, so now you gotta tell me about The Assembly."

"I don't have to do shit!"

"You better, or I'm not gonna talk to you anymore."

"Maybe I never wanted you to talk anyway!"

"Fine!"

" _Fine_ ~!" Dream imitated George's accent horribly, sticking out his tongue at the shorter boy who now had his arms crossed over his chest.

They kept walking, a silence between them.

"Wait are you seriously not gonna keep talking…?" Dream asked after a while.

George kept his mouth shut tightly and scowled at the masked man. _Of course I'm not gonna talk to you, dummy._

"Oh come _on_ George, I was joking!!"

_Oh yeah? Well then tell me about The Assembly,_ Dream _~!!_

"..."

_…_

"...You're really not gonna talk…?"

_I stand by what I said, so_ NO _I am not going to talk!! Not until you tell me about The Assembly!_

"...Fine! Be that way! I don't need you to talk."

George rolled his eyes. _Sure, Dream. That's why you're still talking to me, right?_

Dream proved more stubborn than George gave him credit for, the two boys walking in silence for a long while. But it was softly broken when Dream began humming.

George had almost forgotten the tune that came from the taller man, but as he listened, he found the noise welcomed back in his ear- like an old friend. He almost found it annoying how easily it slipped back into his ears, wanting to stay mad at Dream. George wouldn't say he necessarily _enjoyed_ the humming, per se- he still thought it was annoying- but he supposed...it wasn't _unwelcome_.

The time passed, and soon George forgot about not talking. It was a grave mistake he'd made. "Hey, do you-” as soon as he'd said anything, he clamped a hand over his mouth. _Shit shit shit no wait I was_ NOT _talking!!!_

But it was too late. Dream snapped his head around, smile bright with triumph. "HA!!!" He shouted. "You talked to me!!" His childish grin had smug satisfaction etched into every feature as he laughed, his breath wheezing slightly. "I _win_!!!"

George shook his head violently, face turning a shade of red. _You don't_ win _, you idiot!! I_ accidentally _slipped up, that doesn't count!!_

"Oh don't you shake your head at me, Beetle!!" Dream sang, tail flickering in excitement. "There's no avoiding it!! I _won_ and you _lost_!!"

George shook his head again, holding his arms in an x over his chest, promptly refusing to look at the tall idiot who was now prancing around in delight, chanting his victory like a crazed five year old. _No, Dream! I didn't lose!! It doesn't count if I stopped halfway through!!_

"Oh, c'mon!! Just admit that you lost, George~!" The blonde boy drolled, a smile still evident on his swirling skin.

_No way. Not going to happen._ George gave out a haughty puff of air, crossing his arms and turning away from the masked man.

"Just say it, George!! Say that you lost!" Dream giggled, moving in front of the brunette's line of sight again.

George moved again and let out another puff. _No!! I'm not gonna say_ anything _and you have to deal with it!_

"George come on! Just say that you lost and talk to me!!" Dream once again moved to be in George's sight, the actions repeating again and again. George would turn, and Dream would follow, laughter on his lips.

_No way!_

"Come on, George!"

_Never!_

"George, please!!"

_Not going to happen!_

"George, talk to me!"

"Ugh, _fine_!!" George finally relented, pretending not to notice how Dream's smile grew. "I'll talk to you again!! You're so annoying, jeez!"

Dream let out a victory, "Yesss!!" And pumped his fist in the air. They returned to chatting quite easily, their banter carrying through the trees.

And if the tension that had been present in George the entire day eased up a little, he never said.

* * *

As the sun was dipping below the distant mountains in front of them, the two companions began to set up camp. And by the time the sky was dark and the moon was peeking out from behind the trees, they had eaten dinner and settled in on the ground, chatting quietly.

"You know, you never did tell me anything about The Assembly." George commented after a little while.

Dream nubbed the back of his neck and did his best to look apologetic under the mask. "Did I not? I'm sorry." The truth was Dream didn't want to talk about The Assembly much, his eyes still flashed images of horrifying things- things The Assembly would do if he ever got caught- every time he thought about the place he'd lived for as long as he could remember. So instead he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a bit tired to talk about the ins and outs of The Assembly right now. I'll tell you some other time."

If George thought this was suspicious, or if he thought Dream was lying, he didn't show it. Instead he just shrugged his shoulders and stretched, standing up. "Alright. I'm gonna go look around for some more food. We're running low."

Dream looked up at the boy in the blue scarf. "At night?" He began to get up as well, thoughts of wandering mobs crossing his mind. "Is that a good idea? Why not wait till morning?"

George paused for a moment and Dream thought he saw the shorter boy tense up. "We need to be moving during the day. We can hunt and forage for food at night, that way we don't waste any time dawdling." Dream wanted to argue, but George was already moving. "I'll go hunt tonight, don't worry about it. You said you were tired, right? Get some rest, Dream."

And Dream was left alone with himself, his thoughts, and the flickering flames.

And of all the things to betray him, his thoughts were the scariest.

* * *

They had been traveling together for a few days now, and George hadn't pressed about The Assembly since that night. Whether the short boy had forgotten, or was deliberately giving the blonde his space, Dream couldn't tell. Either way he was grateful.

It didn't make sense to Dream. He never really _liked_ being part of The Assembly, and he knew they did some... _questionable_ things and he shouldn't have any reason to defend them, but he found himself petrified betraying them further, as if he wasn't already going to be hunted down for his actions. As if it could be worse. As if…

Dream looked over to where George walked a few paces ahead of him, the boy's dark hair shimmering slightly in the sun. _As if I'm afraid something will happen to him too…?_ Dream questioned, trying to figure out the emotions twisting in his chest. He decided to let it be for now. It wasn't important what those feelings were- emotions are hardly relevant when it comes to survival.

But the question of The Assembly never left Dreams mind, making him stumble every now and again. He didn't notice the way George would steal concerned glances over to the taller boy, his mind too consumed by thoughts of his past to pay attention. And when night came, maybe Dream should have let George gather more food. But the shorter boy had looked so tired, and it wasn't like the two weren't still feeling the aches from their old wounds, despite being mostly healed.

"Are you sure you can hunt on your own?" George asked.

Dream _wasn't_ sure, but he needed something to distract him from his own head, so he nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. Besides," He flashed his inhuman features, the soft green casting dancing shadows around him. "I can see better than you can in the dark!"

George narrowed his eyes before shrugging. "Alright. Don't die, have fun." He said, shifting and closing his eyes.

And Dream was gone, off in the forest to be on his own. And he really had been hoping that hunting could have distracted him from his cage-like mind. But it only made it worse.

_Why do I feel like this?_ He asked himself, stumbling over some loose dirt in the ground. _I shouldn't be feeling_ anything _for that awful place...So why am I still so afraid of exposing them?_ He cursed himself as he scared a nearby rabbit away, the fuzzy animal darting into the bushes before Dream could take aim. _I can’t be afraid of them coming after us, I knew that would happen-_ Dream swiftly halted his thoughts. _Us…?_ When had he started thinking of him and George in unison, as actual companions? He shouldn't be surprised, but he couldn't get the simple thought out of his head.

He should have been paying more attention. He should have been more aware of what was happening around him. He'd been foolish to let himself become distracted from where he was.

And before he could react, Dream's heart froze at the sound of hissing from behind him.

"Dream, look out!!" Before Dream could register where or who the voice came from, George had tackled the taller man to the ground as the green creature behind them exploded, sending them crashing to the grass harder than either would have liked.

George let out a shriek, Dream following suit as his skin began to burn in the wake of the explosion, though his reaction was nothing compared to his companion's- and rightfully so.

In tackling Dream to the ground, George had taken the brunt of the acidic explosion. Where he had a few sizzling marks on his skin, the brunette had acid burns as big as his palm searing his body- a particularly large burn gracing nearly the entire upper half of his left arm, the cloth that had been covering it having melted away and blood beginning to seep out of the wound.

The short man was breathing heavily, trying desperately to keep his cries of pain to a minimum as tears sprang to the short boy's eyes. And before Dream really knew what he was doing, he had scooped up the boy and shoved the blue cloth around his neck into his mouth, muffling the screams that came from the brunette. The last thing they needed was for more mobs to show up. And Dream began to run back through the woods. He'd come further than he'd first intended, and now he wished he could go back in time and kick himself for being as careless as he'd been.

After a short while, George had calmed down and was now trying to speak to Dream as he ran, hand gripping his arm tightly, trying to help slow the bleeding. "Dream, slow down! I'm fine, I can walk!" But Dream either didn't hear him, or was too consumed by the need to get back to camp to respond. So George spoke again, a twinge of panic creeping into his voice. "Dream, stop! You're going to trip and-"

Any other time, George would have been excruciatingly smug about his rightness.

But when you've just had a creature blow up in front of you and burn your body with it's acidic explosion, the last thing you want to happen is to be thrown to the ground because your idiot companion couldn't see a damn thing.

The two boys toppled to the ground, and George let out another yelp of pain followed by one from Dream. After a second of holding his arm where a branch had stabbed into one of his burns, tail thwacking the ground, Dream scrambled to his feet again.

"Shit, I'm so sorry! Shit, shitshitshit, I'm really bad at this, I'm-"

"Dream!!" George's shout made the masked man's rambling come to a screeching halt. "Shut up for a moment, okay?!" He hissed in pain, gripping his still bleeding arm.

Dream looked at the man on the ground, an unreal amount of guilt beginning to worm its way into his stomach. _My fault, my fault, my fault-_ George had come after him and gotten hurt in the process. _My fault, my fault, my fault-_ And then when trying to get them back to safety, he had fucked up even further and had literally thrown the injured man on the ground. _My fau-_

"It's not your fault, Dream, I'm sorry I yelled." George said, tension still making his voice tight, though it was softer now. The shorter boy must have been some sort of mind reader. Or he had just been able to read the guilt coming off the ex-hunter in waves. "I'm still pissed you were as reckless as you were, but whatever." He stood up with a little effort and began walking back in the direction of the camp, the fire barely visible through the treeline.

Dream turned and followed wordlessly, his stomach an endless pit of nauseous emotions and twisting feelings.

* * *

George had been struggling to wrap up his arm when Dream soundlessly came over and took over. Sure, George was still mad at him for being careless, but it was difficult to wrap up his entire upper arm with only one hand, the other not having good enough reach.

They hadn't spoken since they reached the fire, so when George heard Dream's voice beside him as the masked man wrapped the bandages, he might have been surprised.

"I was enrolled at the Academy when I was ten..." Dream started, his voice a degree softer than George had ever heard and somber around the edges. And instead of making a comment, George just listened as the blonde continued. "They teach a lot of kids at the Academy. Ones that don't have parents and such, I guess." Georege flinched as Dream miswrapped something and he muttered an apology, continuing further. "The Assembly isn't just Hunters, actually. There's different levels- only three that I know of though. There could be more.

"The Assembly's units are broken into the Academy students- we call them Crows, I don't know why though- then there are the general Hunters, which are sent out most often." He took a breath for a moment as he finished with George's arm, settling to sit next to his companion. "Then there are the most dangerous kinds of Hunters- Elites." Dream's masked face stared into the slowly dying flames. "I had been an Elite for almost a year before I got called out here to track you. Beyond the Elites are the high-ups and instructors. I don't think they do anything other than keep the Assembly from committing murder left and right, you know? Keep these trained serial killers under control and such." Without looking at George, Dream curled further in on himself, knees pulled up to his chin so he was almost hiding his face on the fabric of his coat sleeves. "I...I don't like thinking about that place much...I don't have very many... _happy_ memories tied to it."

George debated trying to reach out a hand, but decided against it, settling for words instead. "I'm sorry, Dream, I didn't mean to kick up unpleasant memories...But it's okay now- You don't have to go back ever again."

Dream buried himself deeper into the folds of his yellow coat, hands gripping dirty fabric tightly. "I wish I could believe that..." He whispered somberly.

"Come on, Dream. Don't be like that." George said softly. "You're not going back."

"How do you know?" Dream's voice cracked and something unsettled in George's chest. "How do you know they won't come and find me?" His voice had been tense, but now he looked away, the words that left him barely above a whisper. "How do you know they won't kill you in the process…?"

George's breath caught in his throat and a hot anger rose with the hurt he felt for his companion. "You say that like I haven't been hunted down for the past five months." He nearly spat the words, but sympathy quickly soothed them. "I know they're going to keep coming after us. After you. After _me_ , Dream." Once again, George debated putting a hand on the blonde's shoulder. This time he did, and he hoped it was comforting. "We can face them together now, though. We won't die. I think you're a bit too stubborn for that." He tried to lift the mood, nearly missing the way Dream's mouth lifted softly, his once stagnant tail twitching slightly.

"Thanks, George." Dream said quietly, letting out a shaky breath as he began to lay out on the dirt. "Let's get some sleep. it's been a long enough night already."

George smiled and curled up a few feet away from him, though they lay closer than they had any other night. "Goodnight, Dream." He breathed out, staring for a moment longer at the still barely flickering fire.

"G'night, George..." He responded just as lightly.

And if George noticed the way Dream's tail absently found itself wrapped loosely around George's wrist, he didn't mention it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, sorry this took a hot sec to get out :/  
> But I had fun writing it!!
> 
> And if you hadn't guessed already, the creature that blew up was in fact a creeper. I thought it'd be fun to imagine the creeper having a more acidic explosion than a fiery one since no flames are produced in game by them lol. It was also a take I hadn't seen anyone else use, and I was interested in exploring it!
> 
> In other news, I have NO idea when this next chapter will come out. I have a big surgery coming up in less than a week and it's gonna take some time for me to recover, so if I don't update for a few weeks, you'll know why. I'll still try to write- you don't have to worry about that at ALL lol- but I'm more afraid of how the quality will be effected lol.
> 
> Anyway, as always, thank you for reading Wishing Wells!! I really appreciate it and it still has me reeling a bit how quickly this has gained traction in comparison to previous works. Thank you guys so much! I love reading your comments and I've even received fanart (Which had me giddy as fuck btw) And I wish I could really convey how much it means to me that anyone is reading my stuff- it makes me so happy! Till next time, Stay Fresh and Minty, Folks!!


	6. An Aching Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while but I'll ramble more about that at the end of the chapter.
> 
> For now let's get into cw for this chapter!!  
> CW: There is a sequence that is kind of graphic about someone being killed. (Not visually- like I don't describe the injuries since it's told from the point of view of someone who can only hear it happen- but still) Tread carefully friends! :D

Traveling together proved to be a lot more pleasant than George could have guessed. He had expected the days to be filled with nothing but petty arguments that would devolve into shouting matches.

"George!! George, look!!" Dream bubbled as they came to the top of a hill. His blonde hair ruffled in the wind and his pale yellow tail flickered in excitement. As George reached the top of the slope, he gazed out to where the masked man was looking. It was a small village… "I bet we can reach that by tomorrow morning if we travel through the night!"

George thought about it. If they arrived by morning, like Dream had said, that would be wonderful. It was near the base of a mountain that they'd have to climb anyway and George wasn't looking forward to having to scale the slopes on half-assed rest. So if they managed to reach the village by morning, they could rest for the day and gather materials during the night, giving them time for one last rest before they braved the mountain.

Another thought came to George's mind and he began to shake his head. "No, it wont work. Even if we do make it by morning, the villagers would be too suspicious of you." He began making his way down the hill as Dream followed behind. "We should find a clearing in the next few hours so we can set up camp and-"

"No, wait- there aren't any villagers in there."

George stopped and looked back at his companion, raising an eyebrow before he continued walking. "What do you mean? How do you know- it's like a million miles away."

Dream tugged lightly at the back of George's scarf and the brunette stopped as Dream pointed to the Village once again. "You see that flag? The black and red one? It's a bit-"

George pushed at Dream's face playfully. "Yeah, I see the flag, dummy. Why's that important though? It's just a flag." The shorter man started, heading back down the hill.

"That's a pillager's flag." Dream said, following close behind his companion. "They're not really heard of in villages near the capital since The Assembly took care of them long ago, but the further out you go the more common it is to see pillager raid flags." George stumbled on a root, catching himself and staring after the masked man as he passed him by. "That village won't have any people in it. Not anymore at least."

George shivered slightly at the blonde's words.  _ Not anymore at least… _ what a horrible thing to imagine…

They continued on and as the sun began to set and the sky began spilling dark blue hues to make way for the stars, George became more and more nervous. Sure, he'd traveled at night before, but he hadn't been in the right mind then- already sleep deprived and fuzzy brained. But now...he began to realize he was much too awake for this and began fumbling with the edges of his blue scarf, tugging at the roughed up ends and gripping the fabric in his cold hands.

"Hey are you-" Dream began to speak, placing a hand on his companion's shoulder. But in a panic, George yelped and jumped back, tripping on a rock and falling to the ground gracelessly.

"FUCK!!!" George shouted, his heart racing and his mind going just as fast. "Don't you  _ ever _ scare me like that again!!"

Dream's lights had flashed subtly when George had screamed and were now sending off a dull, calming glow. "Hey hey hey, calm down, Beetle!" He said lowly with a bit of a laugh in his voice. "I didn't mean to scare you. You looked tense and I got a bit worried is all."

George took a breath and relaxed. "Aww, you were worried about me?" He teased, trying to keep his voice from shaking- his trembling and fear-ridden thoughts hadn't calmed down.

Dream stared at him with an expression unreadable behind the mask, his mouth falling open just slightly as his tail flicked, as if surprised. "Well, yeah. Of course I was worried about you." He smiled and gave George a friendly push on his shoulder. "It'd be a bit awkward if you tripped and died falling over a rock after all!"

George scoffed up at Dream. "Oh come on, Dream! You know it'll take more than some dumb rock to kill me!"

Dream smiled and extended his hand to George. "Hmm...Do I though…? I wonder..."

George made an offended noise and let his companion pull him to his feet. "Says the man who couldn't kill me even after three months of chasing me!"

"Hey! I didn't  _ want _ to kill you! I  _ could _ have at any time, George!"

"Oh  _ really _ ? Then why haven't you?" George shook his head mockingly, never once noticing how Dream's lights got brighter and brighter, lighting up the area like a campfire. "Dream, Dream, Dream...Such a bad hunter!" It seemed he also failed to notice how the trembling in the back of his head began to muffle and fade out as Dream spoke to him.

Dream made a dramatic noise and smiled, trying and failing to hide the laughter from his voice as he spoke. "Me? A  _ bad _ Hunter?! Psshhh, I could hunt you in my  _ sleep _ , Beetle!"

The banter went back and forth for a while, and George hardly noticed how much more relaxed he had become until there was a comfortable lull in the conversation and he realized his torrent of nervous thoughts had dropped to low and comfortable rumble. It was also then that he noticed how brightly Dream was glowing- like a really big pale yellow lantern.

When George tried to see if the rumbling thoughts would return, he found that they didn't have a need to anymore.  _ Huh… _ George thought, glancing at his hand for a moment.  _ I think...I can learn to live with this… _ He smiled, pulling his blue scarf up to hide it. He didn't see the way Dream's own mouth twitched upward as well, soft and satisfied.

* * *

Dream's subtle plan had worked. Whatever had George spooked before, Their talking and laughing had helped. And the blonde's glowing seemed to help a bit as well, judging by the smile George tried to hide from him in the folds of blue fabric that hung around his neck.

As the two continued through the night in a soft silence, Dream's head began to bob slightly. He had been the one to suggest that they travel through the night, but hadn't actually been mentally prepared for the exhaustion that would inevitably follow a sleepless night of walking through a dark forest.

He hardly noticed how his lights began to dim and the tension in George's shoulders returned. His mind wandered aimlessly as he stifled a yawn.  _ George is kinda short, isn _ ' _ t he? _ Dream thought as he gazed at his brunette companion next to him, the blue scarfed boy gazing around nervously and jumping slightly at the sounds in the forest.  _ He looks kinda funny too, kinda cute… _ Dream giggled tiredly and poked George's shoulder, the shorter boy jolting at the contact and turning to face the blonde. "Heheh, you're short~..."

George gave a nervous laugh and rubbed at his arm. “Haha...Okay, whatever, jackass…”

Dream frowned. “Well  _ that’s _ not very nice, George.” He poked his arm, the shorter boy jumping again. “You  _ are _ short. It’s just a fact.”

George scowled. “Oh, come on. I’m not that short, you jerk.”

“Uh, yeah you are, weirdo, you’re  _ tiny _ !” Dream giggled again and poked George once more, who once again flinched away from the contact.

“I’m not short!” He hissed, smacking Dream’s hand away before he could get poked again. “And quite poking me!”

Dream raised an eyebrow at the brunette. “Oh yeah? And why should I?” He challenged, poking George again. He found the way the shorter boy’s face crinkled in annoyance hilarious and adorable, why would he stop if it was so much fun?

George swatted at Dream again. “Because! It’s not funny, it’s just...annoying as hell.” He said, shivering slightly at a cold that didn’t exist and once again hiding his face into the blue fabric around his neck.

And if Dream had any sense in his tired head, he deliberately ignored it as his face split into a shit-eating grin worthy of a blue ribbon. Without speaking further, the companions commenced in a broken game of Dream jabbing his finger against George’s arm and the short boy infrequently swatting at him, slowing further and further down in an attempt to remain unprovoked. Though the longer it went on, the more and more George’s face and body tensed up, the more he began to look feverishly at the surrounding trees.

Of course, this didn’t stop Dream. He wishes it had…

Finally George tensed up and stopped walking as Dream poked him again and again and-

“Can you  _ stop _ ?!!” George fumed. “What the hell Dream?! Why won’t you just leave me alone? Jesus!!”

Dream’s smile faltered for a moment before restoring. “Oh c’mon, Beetle! Calm down, it’s just a little teasing~” He poked him again.

George caught Dream’s wrist and pushed the taller man away slightly. “ _ Stop _ .” His voice sounded low and his face was tense, the faint green that illuminated the area doing nothing to aid the harsh dark that resided soundly in the boy’s eyes.

It didn’t seem to register in the blonde’s mind though as in the near future he would deem himself a complete fool.

Dream smirked as his tail snaked its way behind George, jabbing the shorter man in the back slightly.

Pure, unfiltered fear and panic flashed in the brunette's dark eyes as he stumbled forward slightly and spun on his feet, still backing up. Dream placed his hands on his companion’s shoulders and very quickly whispered in his ear, “Boo~!” As he completely shut off his dimming lights, leaving them in utter darkness.

* * *

_ No, no, no no no!! _

George couldn’t even think. He could hardly  _ breath _ .

_ No, no,  _ no _!! _

It was just like last time.

Why was it like that time?

Why now?

Why here?

He could still hear the shouting, the yelling, the  _ screaming _ .

It shook his mind and crashed against his head like the ocean in a storm. The memories he’d tried for years and years to make vanish now spilling over, drowning his rationality in their murky depths.

_ Run, run, run- _ His mind repeated-  _ ricocheted _ - the words, over, over, over. He could hear the voice, he could almost feel her running beside him, he could remember everything and it  _ hurt _ .

George didn’t want to remember everything. He didn’t want to remember  _ anything _ . He hated that night, he hated that thought, he hated the past, he hated this dark- the dark that was around him, the dark that went through him, the dark that was  _ inside _ him- he hated it, he hated it, he  _ hated it _ -

And he was so scared.

He was so,  _ so _ scared all over again.

This pitch that pierced his heart and rose up things he never wished to see again.

He was scared of it.

It all was too much for him. How could it not be?

All this dark was so much like that night and he couldn’t handle it. He doesn’t remember anything that happened really- how he got to where he was in the end, how he ended up curled in the protective roots of that tree, how he had gotten that cut on his cheek or any of the other small scrapes on his body- he just remembered the feelings. What his mind had displayed for him. And they hadn’t left him alone yet...

God he wished nothing like that had happened...He wished he hadn’t agreed to walk at night. He wished he had tried and convinced him- had tried to convince  _ her _ . He wished it had never happened. Maybe if he wasn’t so weak then she would still be alive, if he had tried to help then they would all be okay, if he had just been  _ stronger _ -

“GEORGE!!” Dream’s call could have snapped George out of his head any other time, but all it did was bring more back.

_ “George!! George, RUN!!” _

He curled in on himself more at the memory he tried to push away. It had been so long, he had worked so hard on forgetting, why did it have to come back like this?

“George,  _ please _ !!” Dream’s voice called through the trees and the brunette only slightly registered the panic that laced his words. “Where are you?! I won’t do it again, I swear I won’t!! Please,  _ please _ just come back!! George, I’m sorry…” He wouldn’t have heard the last part anyway, even if his mind had been present.

But the words brought back too much for George and he was swept away into a memory he wished would perish from his mind eternally.

* * *

_ “George!!” Her voice split George’s mind like a searing knife, his scared thoughts already swamping anything rational in his twelve year old mind. “George we have to run now, okay?” His mother spoke and her voice was shaky. It scared him, his mother was never scared. “We have to go very fast now, alright? Are you ready? Hold on tight now…” _

_ And George did hold on tight. And together they ran through the snow that had started falling. George heard another yell in the distance followed by a dog barking. The sound made his heart pound and his grip tighten, and he felt his mother squeeze back and heard her whisper under her breath to him,  _ it’ll be okay, we’re going to be okay, don’t you worry, little cornflower _. _

_ And he believed her. He knew it was going to be okay, because his mother was always okay. And she was often right about these things. But the voices were getting closer and George’s legs were getting tired, he was having trouble breathing now. The voices were so close now and George didn’t dare look behind him for he feared what he would see. _

_ His mother then swooped him up in her arms and began to run faster, George now gazing behind her shoulder at the people chasing them. _

_ They were so close he could see the fire from their torches and make out one of the dogs- more like a savage wolf than a dog. It scared him so much and he whispered. “Mom...Mom they-” _

_ “Sh, sh, I know sweetie, I know. Don’t you worry about them, okay? Don’t worry  _ one bit _.” She said, running faster still until she veered off to the side very suddenly and all but fell to the ground, pulling George’s skinny arms off from around her neck and grabbing something from the side of the single rucksack with all the things they’d taken with them- it was gel-like and glittered slightly, reflecting stars that the sky didn’t hold- a pearl the size of her palm. George had only seen one like it once before when he was younger and his mother told him it was only for emergencies. _

_ “George I need you to listen to me now, okay?” His mother started, grabbing out one of the small daggers they’d taken. “These people are very strong and they will kill you. I know it’s very very scary, but they don’t know you exist. They just want me.” _

_ George was shaking- whether from the cold or the fear, he couldn’t tell. “M-mom what-” _

_ George’s mother placed her hands to his cheeks and looked him in the eyes. “George I need you to take the books and run. Run as far away as you can.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “I’ll meet you in the nearest village, okay sweetie? I love you.” _

_ George’s heart began to race as his mother stood up. “W-wait! Mom wait, I-” _

_ “George!!” She yelled, the voices getting closer. Her hair flapped in the wind along with her blue scarf. “George RUN!!” _

_ And by god did he run. He’s sure his mother wanted him to run further, but as he tripped on a root, he found a small fox hole- just big enough for him to fit inside with the bag his mother had left him. If he waited here, then he could meet up with her in the morning when she had taken care of all the bad people. _

_ The voices and clamor got closer and George heard the sound of a dog cry. _

_ “That fucking bitch killed my dog!! Al, did you see that? She killed my fucking dog!!” _

_ They were so so close, but George couldn’t see them. He was glad for it too… _

_ “Stop yapping about your damn dog, Micha, the mutt was fucking stupid anyway. Besides, that just gives you a good reason to maul her back, right?” _

_ “I suppose...Well what are you waiting for? Catch that bitch and let me feed her lungs to the crows!!” _

_ It was quiet for a while as they ran off, and George was starting to think that maybe his mother had gotten them, that  _ she _ had been the one to ‘feed their lungs to the crows.’ _

_ But then he started to hear shouts again. They sounded kind of like- _

_ “Put me down, leave me be!! If you’re going to kill me then do it, you bastards!!” _

__ His mother…

_ “No! You know what, whore? You killed my motherfucking dog!! You see it? You shot it and killed it.” _

_ “God, Micha get over the fucking dog! It wasn’t even useful, the dumb shit-” _

_ “Shut up, Al or I’ll kill you next!” _

_ “Why did you bring me back here if you’re so beat up about the dog?” George’s mother asked furiously. _

_ The one named Micha snorted. “Oh please, I don’t care about the mutt, I care that you killed it! You killed my thing and now I can’t use it anymore! And  _ that _!!” He laughed horribly and it made George shiver. “That makes me mad. So you know what I’m gonna do to you? I’m gonna- FUCK!!!” He heard something snap- like someone breaking a branch in half- and heard his mother scream. _

_ “Okay, Micha, I’m bored now. My turn!” The one Micha had called Al spoke up and there was a sickening splattering crunch that made George sick, the boy trying not to imagine what had caused it. There was no scream. Just the whine from Micha. _

_ “Aalll!! You  _ killed _ her!! Dammit, you’re no fun.” _

_ And George’s mind went black. Nothing registered anymore as he vaguely listened to the voices fade away. _

* * *

It was so dark that night, so so dark. He remembers waiting in that fox hole for so long his fingers went numb. It was so dark in there...It was so dark...And he could still hear the whoops and hollers of the Hunters from that night echoing in his head.

It was dark now too. It was dark and it was cold, he was shaking again and he held his hands threaded in his hai and over his ears, pushing his head in his knees. He felt so small again, he felt so useless again. The cage of roots was bigger than the fox hole- big enough for another person- but it made him claustrophobic and his breath quicken.

It was dark.

It was so very dark.

George couldn’t think of anything else- how dark it was, how very very dark it was and how he couldn’t escape it.

It was dark.

It was so very dark

It was dark in his head and dark in the air and the pitch was consuming him all over again and he couldn’t escape it- all that left his mouth were small “I’m sorry”s as he was engulfed by things he never did- things he couldn’t have done.

It was dark.

It was so very dark.

And George felt like he would never escape it so he closed his eyes, as if he could block it all out.

_ It was dark. _

_ It was so very dark. _

.

.

.

And then it wasn’t.

The world was lighting up.

George tentatively opened his eyes and glanced with a fearful gaze at the source.

It was Dream…

Dream was there, glowing brighter than George had ever seen him, his mouth twisted in concern.

“George! There you are, thank  _ god _ ! C’mon- let’s get out of here. The-” Dream had started talking, moving up and away from the roots where George had hidden himself and the small man found himself panicking at the subtle loss of light.

“W-wait!! Wait don’t go!” His mouth opened and the words spilled out before he could stop himself. Dream paused and looked back at George before crouching again. “I-I...I can’t...p-please just…” George couldn’t get the words out of his mouth now. All he could remember was the way his mother had told him to run, how the last thing he’d seen of her was the back of her head as she teleported away. 

Dream was suddenly beside him in the small space, glowing brightly. George subconsciously grabbed onto his yellow coat, as if his small and shaking grip could make him stay.

But then Dream  _ did _ stay.

He stayed and slowly moved closer until George found himself surrounded in the warmth of this companion’s arms.

The light was so bright and so warm and so comforting. It wasn’t dark anymore. And as George’s heart began to slow down once more, he muttered an apology into Dream’s thick coat.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. I Should be the one to say that. I’m really sorry I did that. I should have been paying more attention to you…” Dream held him tighter for a split second before his grip loosened completely and he pulled away from George, who silently swallowed the panic that spiked at the action. “We should get moving though, George. We’re almost to the village anyway, we can sleep soon.”

Dream crawled out of the cage of roots and waited as George scrambled after him, and if Dream particularly noticed the way George immediately grappled back onto his coat sleeve, he didn’t mention it. Instead they walked on in silence for a while, Dream’s glowing illuminating their path and the trees around them.

“Hey…” Dream finally spoke. “Do you want to talk about it…?” He sounded hesitant, and George couldn’t blame him. They had known each other hardly a month- three if you count the time Dream was supposed to be hunting him- and were still unsure of one another. Dream had mentioned his time in The Academy to George a while ago, but had never elaborated on it.

George shook his head in response. He didn’t feel like talking at all really, still petrified by distant memories swimming in his head. His mind still recalling images that made him sick, recreating a voice he would never hear again.

* * *

_ “George, I think it’s time for us to go live in a village.” His mother told him as she packed a rucksack full of food. _

_ “Why? What’s going on? Why do we have to leave?” George was so confused. He’d lived with his mother in the woods his entire life now, why would they have to leave? It didn’t make sense. _

_ His mother just smiled sadly. “Well, honey, do you remember what I taught you about Dad and Grandpa? Well in this place it’s illegal to do things like that. We’re not allowed to try and go to The End or even  _ think _ about it.” _

_ George scrunched up his nose. “Well that’s stupid. You told me dad and Grandpa were doing good things, why would doing good things be illegal? It’s just stupid.” _

_ His mother smiled again and knelt in front of him. “You’re right, Georgie, it  _ is _ stupid. But there are dangerous people out there who will kill us if they know what we’ve been doing.” She gestured to the vast amount of books and journals that lined the wall- documents on The End and records of it’s people. It was George’s family’s entire life’s work, dating back to George’s great grandmother who had visited The End within a few years of the unknown event that had wiped it’s people from the surface. It was one of the only things keeping George and his mother going. _

_ George tuned back into his mother. “I know it’s scary and it sucks a ton, but right now our lives are more important than the books.” George was shocked to hear his mother say that. He could recall many times where she would return home from another book retrieval with singe marks on the ends of her hair and rips in her clothes. Their life was more important than the books? Their life  _ was _ the books. They were all George had ever known from a very young age, after all. _

_ “Are we going to take the books with us?” George asked, knowing the answer. _

_ “No...No, George.” His mother said through a pained smile. “We’re leaving the books here.” _

_ He had been expecting it, but it still made his eyes go wide and his head hurt. “All of them…?” _

_ His mother bit her lip as she looked around. She knew how much those books mattered to both of them. Finally she sighed. “We can take a few. But not more than three. Here, I’ll help you sort through them. Then we have to leave, okay, little cornflower?” _

_ George nodded, happy again. “Okay, mom! And don’t worry about those bad people- if they try and get us, you and me can get them back!” _

_ His mother smiled in an odd way and swept George’s small twelve year old body into a hug. “You’re so amazing, Georgie! C’mon, let's start sorting the books now.” And maybe George was imagining it, but he thought he saw the subtle glimmer of tears flicker from the corner of her brown eyes. _

* * *

George’s grip on Dream’s coat tightened and the blonde pretended not to notice, only glancing slightly at the shorter boy from under his mask.

Dream should have never pushed him so much. He should have picked up on George’s emotions, on his fear. He would blame the tiredness that ached through his body, but it wouldn’t have been the complete truth. It didn’t matter now though- he couldn’t change the past. He glanced at the illuminated trees around him, the green of the glow almost unnoticeable, the light so pale and bright it was more white than green. At least he could work on making the future better.

They walked in silence until they came to the village. It had clearly been abandoned for a long time now- the houses dusty with plants beginning to overtake walls and windows. The well was filled with murky water and the town bell had fallen over and been chipped, plants beginning to consume it.

They walked silently into one of the less damaged houses and silently began setting up to sleep. Or at least Dream did. George was still a little shaken, it seemed. He quietly sat there on the edge of one of the dusty cots and stared at his hands as Dream checked to see if the abandoned furnace was still good enough to use for their dinner tonight. Dream was sure the brunette wasn’t aware of how closely he was watching him or the extent of Dream’s worry. After deeming the stone furnace safe, he watched as the shorter boy reached up and gripped the scarf around his neck, pulling it up over his face slightly.

Dream’s chest hurt when he saw that. George was obviously hurting somehow. Something was bothering him. He was  _ upset _ . Dream didn’t like that.

He waited for the food to be done before he crossed over to his companion and handed him a bowl of well cooked food- probably the best thing either of them would have eaten in months.

“Listen,” Dream started, eating the steaming food in his hands as he watched George stay stuck still. “I know you don’t want to talk, but is there anything else I can do? You look like hell, George. I don’t like it…” He added the last part quietly, but didn’t try to hide it.

George paused before shaking his head and placing a piece of meat in his mouth. At least he was eating, that was a good sign. Or at least Dream  _ thought _ it was a good sign- he wasn’t entirely sure how this whole comfort thing worked. He’d never had it before himself and no one at The Academy ever needed- or  _ deserved _ \- to be consoled or spoken quietly to.

And as Dream wracked his brain for things he could possibly do to make George feel better, the small man spoke.

“It was the dark.”

Dream shot to attention. “What?”

George looked away and out the dirty window as the sky began to very slowly lighten to a deep blue as dawn began it’s daily greeting to the world. “It was the dark...I kind of...I’m afraid of the dark.”

Dream forced himself not to sputter. It was obviously a serious matter, he couldn’t let himself mess up again today. “You’re...afraid of the  _ dark _ ?”

George gave an empty laugh, devoid of the smile that often accompanied the sound meant for joy. “I uh...It was a really long time ago...But I lost my mother in the middle of the night while...While running from mobs...She told me to run and so I hid in a fox hole.” His gaze had shifted around the room while talking, but now he was once more quietly looking out the window. “It was so dark that night…” 

The words that fell from his lips were so soft and quiet, his eyes were far away and glazed with pain from another time. He didn’t cry though. But the way he spoke the words made it clear that he had many, many times before. Maybe this was the reason he didn’t cry now, his eyes had run out of tears to shed for the memory, the heartbreak of it so old but the wound still stinging sharply, like salt had found its way into the cut and every once in a while whe George moved, it would sting.

Dream wanted to tell George that he was sorry for his loss, tell him that it was okay now and that he didn’t have to worry about losing anyone again. He wanted to wrap his arms around him slowly like he had under the roots of that tree, he wanted to hold him and tell him how okay it was going to be.

But none of that happened. Instead Dream placed his empty bowl on the ground and began to lay down on his cot. “We can rest now, George. When was the last time you slept in a bed?”

George nodded and placed his bowl down too. “Right…” He said softly. Then he paused for a moment, still not laying down. “...Dream can I-” He stopped.

Dream turned and sat up slightly. “Yeah?”

George bit his lip before laying down, his back turned to him. “Nevermind. I’ll wake you up later. Goodnight, Dream…”

Dream turned and and gave him a goodnight of his own before he drifted off to sleep, his dreams invaded by nightmares before turning a little softer.

* * *

The next time Dream woke up, it was to the sounds of birds just past dawn. He sighed and turned over, only to be met face to face with a sleeping George hardly a foot and a half away from him. It seemed the brunette had pushed their beds together in the night. He also found that his tail had unconsciously wrapped around George’s wrist in his sleep, and the boy’s hand resting atop it quietly.

Dream smiled fondly at his friend.

“Goodnight, Beetle…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh jeeeezzzzz  
> It's been quite a while hasn't it? I'm really sorry about the long wait!! As I mentioned in the previous chapter- I had some pretty major surgery at the end of September, and so I wasn't writing really for a little while there. However I did start back up on writing a little less than a week post-op, and I started posting a new fic! This one is a lot fluffier than Wishing Wells and it's called Telescopes of Gold!  
> That should have been the end of my distractions from this story, but then I accidently started a Wing!Au on my tumblr account that got more attention than I thought it would. That, and I've also started working on two other fics- one about the Dream Smp that I may or may not get the first few chapters out for within the month, and a cyoa fic that I'm slowly chipping away at!
> 
> Anyway, that's just to clear up why I've been gone for so long. I won't keep you guys here listening to me rant much longer- as always, Thank you for reading Wishing Wells, and remember to Stay Fresh and Minty, Folks!


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